Might I Introduce Mr Harry James Potter?
by Torchwood Prof
Summary: At a school in London called Deffry Vale, a man called the Doctor met a man called Harry Potter. Then Harry hitches a lift in a machine called the TARDIS, and who knows what'll happen? Harry Potter/Doctor Who Series Two Crossover. Work-In-Progress.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note:

The Professor: Hello, and welcome to Ambrose the Book-Wolf and the Torchwood Professor's story, "Might I Introduce Mr Harry James Potter?", or just "Might I Introduce?", or if you're feeling really lazy, MIHJ? I quite like the sound of that, Mihj.

Ambrose: Quite catchy, but we have to make sure the otter Mij doesn't sue us. They can be vicious. Right, I'll be doing the disclaimer. Ahem . . . Harry Potter and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Harry Potter universe are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling, and of course all those guys at Warner Bros. who do the movies probably own a bit too. Doctor Who and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Doctor Who universe are the intellectual property of the BBC and the various editors and writers, ect. Any and all other references to outside TV shows, movies, cartoons, books, etc, are not in any way inclined toward encroaching copyright. Right, now that's done - Professor?

The Professor: Yes, now that's done, we'll just warn you - the first part of the story takes place around February 2007, which is when "School Reunion" is set by my calculations, and so we're dealing with the Tenth Doctor and Rose in series two, or twenty eight depending on how you look at it. That date makes Harry about twenty six.

Ambrose: And as to pairings - we'll go with the series for "Doctor Who" and for Harry Potter - well, we'll just wing it. Kay? Good, now onwards ho!

(Chapter 1 - Start)

Very few humans, throughout the course of the first two millennia of humanity, are known to have traveled into space  
Even fewer humans, throughout the course of the first five millennia of humanity, are known to have traveled in time.  
The vast majority of these humans were only there for one reason alone.  
They were there because the Doctor wanted them to be there.

They were never especially important in the grand scheme of things - at least until you factored in their involvement with the Doctor. Because when you were with the Doctor, every choice is especially important in the small, medium and the grand scheme of all things.  
They were never especially individual, unless you counted a heightened sense of adventure, a honed ability to laugh at themselves and a tried and true way of brewing tea as individual. Because when you were with the Doctor, every situation can or will be resolved using tea in some shape or form, or at the least a towel.  
They were, however, always in the wrong place at the right time. Most people traveled with the Doctor simply because he had saved your life, or was in the process of saving your life, and were simply swept along with him - not that many of them minded, of course.

Harry James Potter made a habit of being in the wrong place at the right time, even though (God forbid!) he wished he could simply be in the right place at the right time, or in the wrong place at the wrong time - for him it seemed it was impossible to get things in the right order.

Which is why he was at Deffry Vale High School in early 2007 - the wrong place at the right time.  
Or so it seemed at fifteen past two on a Thursday afternoon to him and the class of malevolent teenagers he was supposed to teach.

(Harry's Point Of View - English Department Room Two)

As any one who has every attended school on a Thursday will testify, Thursday afternoon is the Bermuda Triangle of education: everything falls off the radar.

Harry was supposed to be the new English teacher at Deffry Vale, but he was confronted by a simple fact; he knew less about the subject than the pupils themselves, as he had not completed a Muggle education, and had left school at only ten years old. So he did what every teacher did; read word for word from a book and set them textbook questions.

" . . . and so can any one tell me why, ah - Beatrice wants to kill Claudio?" Harry asked of the class. Only one of the pupils raised a hand - the same one who had answered the last five questions - and Harry, not really surprised about the lack of response, asked him. "You got an answer?"

The boy was around fourteen, with long brown hair that reached his shoulders and the badges of adolescence peppered upon his chin and nose, and slightly overweight - the stalwart student who tried their best to learn no matter what. His murky green eyes peered out from behind smudged rectangular glasses, and he hesitantly answered. "Is it because, erm-uh, he shamed -" here he cut himself off and glared at the boy who'd thrown a ball of paper at him " - Hero, by ruining her wedding and her honor?"

Harry made a mental note to, a) give the boy who'd thrown the paper detention with Mr Parsons, and b) to send a letter of praise to the answering teen's parents - he certainly deserved it. "Yes, it is, Finn, very good answer." He sent the boy a glance composed, of equal measures, of thankfulness and praise, and the teen sent him back a tentative nod.

He may just be here on UNIT's behalf, but that didn't mean he couldn't be nice to the students while he was at it.

(Scene Break - Deffry Vale Main Entrance)

The marking was the worst part, Harry reflected, as he retreated back to the apartment that UNIT had set up for him. He had undone his tie, which lay in his suit pocket, and his courier bag was stuffed to the brim with Year Eight questions to mark by Friday last lesson; there were only thirty of them, so it wouldn't be too hard, but he'd probably end up marking ten. He knew he'd end up marking at least one students work, if only because it came under UNIT's guidelines as a lead to look up.

If a student was answering at an A Level standard in Year Eight, and on a Thursday no less, aliens were definitely involved. If not, then Harry would take his tie and strangle himself with it, for the world in which that happened was one in which he wanted no involvement.

(Scene Break - No. 94, St Alphonsus Road, Clapham)

There was nothing quite like it, Harry reflected, as he sank into the remarkably comfortable sofa of his apartment with a piping hot pizza and an ice cold pint glass of Coke, before turning on the TV. The screen of the barely twenty four inch television scattered white, then settled onto BBC News. He leaned back into the softness that was the back cushions of the sofa, and grabbed a slice of the Margherita pizza before tearing it off.

He started to idly munch upon the slice, reflecting upon the upcoming full moon with equal parts dread and anticipation. Dread, because he could hardly go wandering onto Clapham Common, even if it was at night, and so would have to stay in the house, and anticipation because there was nothing that made Harry quite as ecstatic as donning the body of a two meter tall sable werewolf, with the feelings of freedom and rightness flowing through him, and driving his neighbors up the wall with his howling.

Harry did so love a sing-along.

(Scene Break - the TARDIS)

The Doctor did so love a sing-along.

"It's good to be a lunatic . . ." he muttered jauntily under his breath in case Rose heard him - the last time she'd heard him singing it, she'd threatened to hijack the TARDIS and kill Ian Dury, if only to stop the Doctor from getting the song in her head. He doubted she could hear him - he was burrowed deep within one of the bundles of cable that needed (well, _needed_ was such a _strong_ word -) a touch of rewiring, and she was in the corridor that led out of the console room - well, somewhere along that route - after all, he couldn't be quite sure . . .

He needed no longer to be sure, as Rose soon walked back into the console room. The moment they'd entered the TARDIS and engaged flight, she'd hurried into the depths of the TARDIS to change her clothes - the Doctor could guess why (only a certain number of nineteenth century Scotsmen and English queens could comment on her nakedness without her taking it to heart at some point). She was now wearing a dull green zip-up hoodie and jeans - certainly no-one could accuse her of being naked in this apparel (well, the Doctor contended with himself, except on Twamutal Four - you were only 'dressed' there if you had seven layers of clothing on).

She also happened to be on her phone - to Mickey, it would seem. He strained his ears to hear the conversation over the clang-clang of her shoes on the wire grate. "Yeah - so where is it? London?" she was saying, and the Doctor could practically hear her face fall into that thinking expression - the one with the eyebrows - that actually made her quite fetching - but enough of that, Mickey was speaking. "Yeah - some school with a Welsh name - a lotta weird stuff's been goin' on, an' it all seems based around there, so -" the tinny voice emitting from the phone was silenced. Rose was talking again, this time sounding a bit skeptical.

"Mickey, this had better not be because it has a Welsh name." She had finished the circle of the console and was nudging the Doctor with her foot. Mickey replied quickly "No, it isn't. I've heard a loada rumors, and believe you me - if you'da heard half this stuff, you'd understand. Can't get anything specific, though - this blocking thing keeps coming up, but don' worry, I'm working on it". The Doctor had withdrawn from the cabling by now, and looked up at Rose with his eyebrow quirked, in a manner he hoped she didn't find too amusing.

She mouthed 'Some school called Deffry Vale, says the place is acting up' (well, it was more like, 'Some schoool called Deffry Vale, sahys the place the place is actin' up' but the Doctor could fill in the blanks) and the Doctor pulled himself up, using the ceramic edge of the console to haul himself up. She finished the conversation by saying "Righ', well we'll meet ya there - should be in 'bout a days time? See ya." and then finishing the call with a low 'bleep'. She placed her hands upon the console, and leaned forward.

"What do ya think?" she asked. Inwardly, the Doctor smiled - she always asked him that, and he liked her for it - but replied "Might as well give it a go - it'll probably turn out to be a chav haven, and we can flick in and out, pat Mickey on the cheek, then head to that Beatles concert in 1968." He nodded as he said this, Rose imitating his gesture, and started to plot the flight for South London, Earth, February 2007 - it didn't take him long, it was becoming quite a regular destination - and they were off.

(Chapter 1 - End)

Ambrose: I think that's a pretty solid first chapter, don't you think, Professor?

The Professor: Yes, I think we did quite a good job on that. By the way, readers, a cookie (or a name insert in the next chapter, if possible) for the first reviewer to figure out what Year Harry was teaching. Good luck!

Ambrose: See ya next chapter guys! Read and review! Feedback is appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note:

Ambrose: Hello, and welcome to the second chapter of our story, "Might I Introduce?". Our thanks to Isebas and SerenityMoonlight, who are the first - but hopefully not last - reviewers of this story. Thank you very much, people, it's much appreciated.

The Professor: Now then, it's Review Answer's - where we answer most questions the reviewers send in, or just reply to them. So, to our first reviewer, Isebas - thank you for reviewing, many thanks indeed. Glad to hear you'll be keeping with us.

Ambrose: And to SerenityMoonlight - Harry does work for UNIT, present tense, and we thought it would make more sense than if he just turned up at the school. Also, no need to worry - we never abandon our stories, and an update will be up for each of our stories, _at the very least, _every two weeks.

The Professor: We do indeed update as often as we can, so no worries. Now, we've set up a poll on our profile page, so that you can vote for the pairings regarding Harry - if you want to send in a specific pairing vote, you'll need to either PM us or send it in a review, whichever. We care about our mail.

Ambrose: Indeed we do. Right, now to the disclaimer - Harry Potter and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Harry Potter universe are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling, and of course all those guys at Warner Bros. who do the movies probably own a bit too. Doctor Who and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Doctor Who universe are the intellectual property of the BBC and the various editors and writers, ect. Any and all other references to outside TV shows, movies, cartoons, books, etc, are not in any way inclined toward encroaching copyright.

The Professor: Enjoy, read and review friends! And make sure to check out our other stories, if you're interested.

(Chapter Two - Start)

The sound of the universe is, by bizarre coincidence, the exact same as that of dragging a set of house keys along the strings of an old, gutted piano, but this is by the by. It is also the sound which a Type 40 TT capsule, otherwise known as a TARDIS, makes as it fades in and out of the three dimensions, then through the fourth.

At twelve o'clock, noon, of a Friday in February 2007, this sound could be heard on Stringford Avenue, London, but no-one was around to hear it, save a colony of sewer rats (who, as one could imagine, were unable to talk about the incident for days after). This was always how a TARDIS landed, since the only place the sound would be ignored was usually the place it had just left, and it is a standard security precaution - much like the chameleon circuit - for all TARDIS'.

Rose had never read the TARDIS instruction manual, and so knew nothing about exactly what the TARDIS did before it landed - not that she had such a desire. One thing she did know, however, was London, and that is why, as she stepped out of the TARDIS, she had a large grin on her face (to her, nothing quite compared to arriving home after having been 'away') - a grin that the Doctor did not share, as he finished shrugging on his brown overcoat and locking the TARDIS door.

"So where did he say to meet him?" the Doctor enquired of Rose, as he started to walk alongside her, matching the pace she had set. "Some fish and chip shop - apparently, it's just down the road from this school - and then he said he'd found somethin' he wanted to show us - well, you - and would you please stop swanning around." she summed up as they reached the end of the alley in which the Doctor had parked, and she peered around the corner.  
There- on the right side of the street.

She nodded toward it, and the Doctor nodded back (she resisted the urge to nod again) as they set off down the street. "So - this Beatles concert we're goin' to - what're they gonna play?" she inquired, since he seemed intent on finding something to rant about (either it'd be something 'brilliant' or 'stupid' the humans had made) and she wanted to avoid making a scene. "Oh, all the good stuff - _Yellow Submarine, Eleanor Rigby, P.S. I Love You - _they even play _Little Help From My Friends_ as a special request from Lennon's mum at the end." he replied absently.

She nodded (in that way which made her look as if she were dunking her head underwater) and was about to ask the Doctor something - she didn't know what, probably whatever came out of her mouth first - when he extended his left arm in front of her, and stopped, obviously expecting her to do the same. Then he asked her "You see that man just ahead of us?" She looked, and saw about five different men, so looked back at the Doctor.

He nodded toward a specific one, and she inspected him - as well as she could, after all, he had his back to her. He was about an inch or so taller than the Doctor, with hair that looked to stick up in all directions (as if he had an invisible pillow stuck to his head giving him bed hair) and seemed to be as black as midnight. She couldn't see his face, just that he was wearing a dark black coat which reached his ankles, and inconspicuous white sneakers. She nodded, and the Doctor started talking.

"That" he said, using the tone he'd used when talking about the Koh-i-noor and Charles Dickens "is Harry James Potter." She snuck another glance at the man - he looked like a Harry. "He's - oh, uh - twenty six - and in about five years into the future, he becomes Minister of Magic." He anticipated her reaction when he said this, and caught her incredulous glance. "_Magic? _But -" she was switching between the Doctor and Potter so fast it was like looking at a flick-book "You mean - wands and cauldrons and -" "I mean wands and cauldrons and dragons and whatever. It's not really magic, though - just access to a section of the brain which allows mental signals to be channeled through materials which are especially geared toward piggy-backing on a special electromagnetic field that surrounds the planet. But I call it magic." (This part he rattled off at about ninety miles per hour) He continued, still looking at Potter with something that looked remarkably like respect, "Then, about three years into power, he manages to unite the world of magic with the world of technology. And then, in 2017, the first scientists manage to create engines that run on magic. The world literally goes _mad -_ seriously, you've never seen the like - and it all starts happening - space stations, colonization, _everything. _All thanks to him."

He finished, and Rose took another at the man. He turned around just at that moment, and she finally got a good look at his face. His face was rather attractive, with angular and striking features, which gave off an almost wolfish feel, which was only complimented by his cream white skin, which was free of freckle or spot. His face was brought together by his eyes, which were the most startling green she had ever seen, with the pupil rounded by a line of golden amber, which then went off to meet itself amongst the green, making a ring.

He had turned around to look at them, and Rose looked off to her right as soon as he had - the Doctor held no such qualms, and simply smiled and waved. The man - Harry - sent back a wavering smile, followed by a slightly quirked eyebrow, before turning around again and continuing along the street. The Doctor lowered his hand, and then finished by saying "The Father of the Future, and we just met him on a London street - I love this planet . . ." She could only smile at him, and he smiled back. Then Rose spotted Mickey in the fish and chip shop window, and she tugged on the Doctor's arm.

Nothing stood between Rose Tyler and chips.

(Scene Break - Deffry Vale English Department Room One)

Three hours later, Harry was just setting homework for his Year Nine class - analyze the differences between the relationships of Beatrice and Benedick, and Hero and Claudio - when the bell rang. The class hurriedly tucked chairs in, threw books into bags and put on their coats. Harry nodded, and they began filing out of the class room - some of them wishing him a good weekend, and some of them already whining about how much homework they'd been given.

Harry finished packing up his teaching materials about a minute after the last student had left the classroom, and swung his bag over his shoulder. He snatched his keys up from the desk, and left the room, locking the door behind him, heading for the staff room for the last meeting of the day.

Idly, he began to wonder who'd next fall to that virulent strain of flu that'd felled half the staff just after Headmaster Finch had arrived. Another teacher seemed to resign each week, complaining of illness, and seemed to disappear into the ether - Harry'd not bothered the first time around to chase them up, but the second time, he had tried to track them down - visiting their addresses, leaving them answer-phone messages - anything he could think of. By now, he'd gotten used to not ever finding them.

And to Finch, the catering staff and the Math's teachers getting indigestion the day after.

(Scene Break - Deffry Vale Staff Room)

"Now, as you are all aware, Mrs Mehru, the previous head of Physics, resigned just two days ago due to her lottery win. In order to cover her absence until we find a permanent replacement, we've managed to find a Mr John Smith to take her place for the next two weeks. He previously taught at Coal Hill School, and we'll introduce you to him on Monday, so you won't have to worry about marking those Physics' tests - just stick them in his pigeon hole, I'll remind him to mark them."

"I'd also like to remind the Geography department that the trip to Deffry Park to see the lights in the sky had been postponed again - I know, I'm sorry" continued Mr Finch, his shrewd face contorting into an expression of apology as the head of Geography, Mr Haywood, looked ready to resign at this most recent in a long line of postponements to see the 'aurora borealis' that had started occurring every night a month ago. Harry simply shared a look with Miss Callahan, the Religious Studies teacher, then had their attention caught by Mr Parsons being invited to take the floor by the Headmaster.

"Seeing as it's a Friday, I think I'll make this short, and relatively brief. This time next week, I will be retiring from teaching - " he held up a hand to stall the cries of disbelief some staff members looked ready to throw. "I've been teaching for twenty three years at this school, twelve of those as head of History - I think it's time now to give it up - means more work for you youngsters, so good luck to you!" A smile curved underneath his mustache, and the rest of the alumni began to clap respectfully as Mr Parsons again sat down.

Headmaster Finch then indicated the meeting was over, and the teachers began to leave the staff room through the various exits. Harry decided to leave through the main entrance, which was the shortest route back to his apartment. He'd have to be quick, if he was going to get his UNIT liaison to do a background check on this Smith before the moon rise.

After all, he could hardly dial the phone with claws, now could he?

(Chapter 2 - End)

Ambrose: OK then, before we sign off for this update, we'd like to again mention the poll on our profile page - if we don't get any votes, we'll have no pairings for the foreseeable future and mentions of previous slash relationships (just a few mentions of Harry/Remus, so don't worry if it isn't your thing - it won't matter all that much). So get voting, people!

The Professor: So, another chapter done. Question is, how's the story so far? That's what we want to know, people! Thanks for reading chapter two - no holds barred on the reviews, please!


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note:

Ambrose: Hello, and welcome to the third chapter of our story, "Might I Introduce?". Our thanks to Kitty Bridgeta, SerenityMoonlight once again and Quetzalcoatls, who were the last three reviewers of the previous chapter. Let's hear it for them! _claps_

The Professor: c_laps as well _Yes, the reviews are brilliant, and those who reviewed are going to get a reply right now - yep, it's Review Answers, where we answer the answerable questions the reviewers send in, and thank them for the praise (we won't mention flamers). So, to our third reviewer, Kitty - your vote is counted, and if Het pairings win the vote (which is on our profile, in case you're wondering) HP/GW will have the first point. As for why Harry is working for UNIT - well . . .

Ambrose: Moving on - to SerenityMoonlight, hopefully we'll have the story run through series two, three and four if we can manage it - if not, then at least series two. But don't get too happy for Harry just yet - some odd things may be afoot.

The Professor: OK, and now to Quetzalcoatls - we wish everyone who read this story reviewed like you did - praise is like our drug. That's it for R.A. this chapter - comments and feedback are needed, so keep sending them in, even if you've reviewed before - tell us how we're doing.

Ambrose: So, to the disclaimer - Harry Potter and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Harry Potter universe are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling, and of course all those guys at Warner Bros. who do the movies probably own a bit too. Doctor Who and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Doctor Who universe are the intellectual property of the BBC and the various editors and writers, ect. Any and all other references to outside TV shows, movies, cartoons, books, etc, are not in any way inclined toward encroaching copyright.

The Professor: Enjoy, read and review friends! P.S. a great big thank you to those who Faved or Alerted the story. On with the chapter!

(Chapter Three - Start)

"What's that supposed to mean?! I'm doing you a favor here - the least I deserve is some information, which I just so happen to need!" Harry was practically growling into the phone, his hand nearly cracking the plastic coating. The phone warbled out more of the conversation, and Harry felt his temper - already fraught by the approaching moon - begin to break.

"I don't care if you have strict orders, I have to have that information!" More tinny words made themselves know to Harry's ears. "State secrets?! I don't care if the file contains naked pictures of Prince Charles - it's necessary, alright?" The UNIT archivist obviously didn't agree, for Harry was nearly shouting into the handset not a minute later. "OK then, get Mace on the line - hell, get Stewart on the line for all I care - hello? HELLO?!" He slammed the handset own onto the sofa and ran a hand through his hair. Hang up on me, will you, well I'll -

Harry sighed. He'd do nothing, he knew he wouldn't - he never did when they denied him information. He ended up doing the grunt work, getting a pat on the head, and then told to go away for a month till they needed him again. He turned his head toward the window, and grimaced - the moon couldn't be far away now. He sent a scalding glare at the handset to see if it would make him feel better - when it didn't, he huffed and made his way down to the basement. After he'd locked the cast-iron door behind him, he took a look at the clock he'd stuck to the wall with a Sticking and Unbreakable charm.

Ten minutes to moon rise.

(Scene Break - Stringford Avenue Chip Shop)

"So 'ows mum?" enquired Rose of Mickey, her elbow supporting her arm which in turn supported her cheek. "She's all right - that Billy Croot's been 'angin around again, but I put paid to that." Mickey replied, before sending a glance over at the Doctor, who had commandeered his laptop not six minutes after entering the shop, and who seemed to be absorbed in whatever the screen held.

She sent Mickey a smile - he was a nice guy, that was why she'd gone out with him (after Jimmy Stone, he was a welcome breath of fresh air) - and she hoped he'd gotten over. She was unsure of how to approach the topic, hesitant of offending him (she still remembered what'd happened in Cardiff last year) and so busied herself in drawing spirals in a small mound of salt that someone'd spilt on the table.

"There - we - are!" announced the Doctor from a table over, attracting Rose and Mickey's attention with a final flourish as he stopped typing on the keyboard. He motioned with his head for the two to join him, and there was a scraping of chairs as they gathered around him, peering at the low-resolution screen.

It was a browser window opened up to what seemed to be a local news site. There was the usual borough graphics, hopelessly outdated and tacky, and it was open to an article about - "Lights in the sky" intoned the Doctor, leaning back into his chair with a pensive expression on his face, upon which were perched his glasses. Rose followed his words as he read parts of the article aloud, and she began to understand. "Many residents of Deffry Vale have been surprised by the "unearthly glow", which has been sighted as far away as Deffry Park. Aaaand, from council official Shaun Kirby, 'I think we'll just have to accept that Deffry Vale has it's very own aurora borealis.'" He stopped there, and Rose looked at him.

"Just a guess, but I don't think aur - auro - that thing, happens in London. Certainly not 'round here." she remarked, inspecting the now darkened road through the window. "It doesn't. Aurora borealis usually only occurs in the Poles of Earth -occasionally on other planets. But not in central London. And not in 2007." The Doctor then reached forward and clicked on a piece of highlighted text, which led the browser to another window.

This one seemed to be for a school - which was, rather unimaginatively, called Deffry Vale High School. It was in a deep green, with a few math symbols scattered about the page, and the Doctor pointed out a small table. "In the past six months, Deffry Vale High School has climbed from it's respectable place of fortieth in the borough tables to the very top of the Greater London tables, with a record amount of A Levels and GCSE's achieved in the past school year. Now - " the Doctor said, taking off his glasses and looking at both Mickey and Rose significantly, before breaking into a grin " - for me, that sounds like cause for investigation. Don't you think so?"

Rose grinned back at him, his enthusiasm infectious, and even Mickey had a little quirk of the lips. "Only question is - how are we gonna get inside? We can 'ardly go walkin' up to the front door -" his voice gained a haughty quality and a soft Scots accent as he started to do an impression of a Scots man " - and say 'We believe there t' be a great evil at work in this school.'" Rose snorted, and looked at the Doctor - who looked noticeably peeved. She raised an eyebrow - what was up with him?

Whatever the Doctor had been about to say, however, was cut off as a loud, resounding howl sounded throughout the cafe, seeming to come from the very walls. Rose felt the blood drain from her face, and her hand reached out to the Doctor, who grasped it within his. He rose from his seat quickly, and nodded to the laptop - Mickey understood the instruction (though not why the Doctor and Rose looked so spooked) and grabbed the computer, folding it up and shoving it inside a bag on the table, which he quickly threw over his shoulders.

"Come on. We've got work to do."

(Scene Break - No. 94, St Alphonsus Road, Clapham)

_All work and no play makes for a dull wolf_, thought Harry.

His transformation this month had been mercifully quick and painless, those oils the UNIT medical specialist recommended doing their job, and Harry was very comfortable as he was - he had been turned in 1999 by Fenrir Greyback, and at first his transformations - the Order had had to install soundproofing so that he didn't wake up the house every full moon. He had since grown accustomed to them, however, and he found it as easy as it had been to transform into his Animagus form before he was bitten now.

_Greyback got his, though_, thought Harry, and indeed he had. When he'd been caught, in May of 2000, by the Aurors, Harry had made sure that he got the Dementor's Kiss - a fate that he'd never wished on anyone before. But he had felt that what Greyback had done to him - _well, an eye for an eye will hardly make me more blind, will it? _He sprung up again onto his heels, and howled again, the frequency reaching an all time high before trailing off as Harry regained his breath. In the silence that followed, the crashes and shouts of next door were easily audible. Harry grinned wolfishly.

Neighbor from Hell? Child's play.

Author's Note

Ambrose: OK, that's another chapter done - bit of a filler chapter for me, but what we think doesn't really matter. It's you people out there who do, so remember to send in your reviews. And a cookie to the reviewer who gets the Doctor Who reference in this chapter!

The Professor: Indeed. Now, here are the current pairing polls:

7 votes for a slash pairing  
5 votes for a het pairing (1 for HP/GW)  
1 vote for no pairing  
0 votes for author's discretion.

Ambrose: Keep up the votes people - it's you who decide if your pairing is the one we use. Now, that's another chapter done. How's the story so far - to you? That's what we want to know, people! Thanks for reading - no holds barred on the reviews, please!


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note:

Ambrose: Hello, and welcome to the fourth chapter of our story, "Might I Introduce?". A veritable mountain of reviews for the last three chapters, which is very encouraging - and quite a bit of fun, too - because now we get to answer them. Yay! So, to SerenityMoonlight (whose feedback has become much anticipated) - we're glad you liked that we put in how Harry became a werewolf. It's a very important factor in the story, if only because that's not how the Doctor thinks it was supposed to go. And, well - _blushes_. What does one say?

The Professor: Nice comments are just as good as votes, which is why we were happy to get crazysquirl's review - a vote and a nice comment. They make the world go 'round, you know. As for Quetzacoatls (whose feedback is also becoming is also becoming a mainstay) - the reference is right, but not the one we were aiming for - for all of you out there who guessed, the one's you sent in were all correct, so cookies for all! _a rainstorm of cookies fall on the reviewers - in a nice way, of course. _But the one we were looking for was an old school Who one, so we're not surprised that you didn't get it. And the idea you had - hmmm, maybe we could make Harry transform at will instead . . .

Ambrose: Something to ponder while we move on to Sabina8's review - which actually made us both blush quite a bit, because we forgot we're dealing with the HP fandom, and assumed everyone knew what UNIT was. So here's a little summary - UNIT, which stands for Unified Intelligence Taskforce, is basically a military organization set up in 1968 to deal with the paranormal and extraterrestrial - like the lights in the sky over the school. Now to Lt. Gripweed - well, we like to end our chapters with a nice little zing for the readers to think on (which is also why they're so short) and Harry being a werewolf seemed like one of them. And good job with the ref. spot.

The Professor: Moving on to salixshadow's review - well, that is something to consider, now isn't it? A Doctor/Harry pairing. I sense a ficlet coming on. And we can let you all consider it - after this chapter is up, we'll be filling a poll with pairing options, so make sure to vote. OK, - wow, this a lot to get through. Fun though - to Eloisa Skywalker - thanks for the compliment, and no, Harry wasn't next door. :) I thought it'd be better to show that the adventures do actually affect the Doctor and Rose, and how they react to things, and so I might have lengthened how far Harry's howl went - also, I picture the cafe being on the boundary of Clapham and Deffry Vale, so it isn't that far away from Harry's apartment. Not to mention it'll set up the little pow-wow Harry has with the Doc and Rose about his lycanthropy rather nicely. To Ms. Audrey Moleca - ah. Well, the polls went a little something like this - slash 68%, het 28% and no pairing 4%. Don't worry - we won't try to suffocate you with a curtain of soppy slash. The romance will be like how it is in Who - understated but a driving force. And we may have influenced your fic? The fuzzy feeling - it has returned! :)

Ambrose: Sorry to all of those who wanted het or no pairings - not much we can do about public opinion. Don't let it turn you off the story though - like the Professor said, we won't smother you with gayness. OK, to Hotgirllow and neko-in-tears, respectively - domo arigato for the compliment, and your vote was taken into account. DecimusSerai - well, we do our best to write well, so we're glad you think we're doing good. And the Doc's going to hit the roof when Harry turns up in the school staff room, which is coincidentally right in the middle of an alien scheme. No, we're not having too much fun with this. :)

The Professor: Finally, to Steff - the vote has been counted, our ego's stroked and - well, here's an update. Wow, if this were a normal chapter, the actual story would be about three hundred words. Well, it'll have to be a bit longer this time. And now, to the disclaimer - Harry Potter and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Harry Potter universe are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling, and of course all those guys at Warner Bros. who do the movies probably own a bit too. Doctor Who and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Doctor Who universe are the intellectual property of the BBC and the various editors and writers, ect. Any and all other references to outside TV shows, movies, cartoons, books, etc, are not in any way inclined toward encroaching copyright.

The Professor: Enjoy, read and review friends! And make sure to visit the poll!

(Chapter Four - Start)

The weak rays of morning broke through the early morning clouds on Saturday morning, and Rose gave an unhappy groan as some of the warm, light beams fell across her, before bringing her hands up to her face and rubbing away the rheum of a long sleep - when the sun hit you, you knew it was time to wake up. Before you get hit with a sunburst, thought Rose groggily, and she sat up with a jaw-popping yawn. She stretched her neck to the right, and then the left, and began rubbing out some of the knots that had formed in her back.

After they'd left the cafe last night, the howling had increased, and Rose could still remember the goose-bumps the sound had given her, and the dreams - She shook her head quickly, as if to rid herself of the memories of the house in Scotland, and swung her feet from under the duvet onto the rather tacky carpet of the cheap hotel room the Doctor had rented the party last night. He'd decided that it wasn't safe to head back to the TARDIS with what might be a vicious werewolf on the loose, and they'd stopped into the cheap and uncheerful bread and breakfast - the Doctor having used what Rose remembered as a psychic credit card to get them a three bed room with en-suite bathroom.

Having blinked away most of the sleep that addled her mind, Rose looked around the dingy room, now reflecting she was rather hungry, and saw that Mickey was still sprawled over the bed like a dead puppet - and that the Doctor wasn't there. This last realization made her step up onto her feet rather quickly - where'd he gone? More importantly, why hadn't he taken her - and Mickey, her mind reminded her - along?

Her train of thought was interrupted by the Doctor suddenly bursting through the room door, which caused Mickey to sit up as if electrocuted, and Rose to trip over one of her shoes (which made her toe throb rather severely). He looked as fresh as he always did, he still had the grin on his face - and he had two large sheaves of paper in his hand. Rose felt her eyes narrow.

"Who's up for some job hunting?"

(Scene Break - No. 94, St Alphonsus Road, Clapham)

The only job werewolves are fit for, thought Harry as he lay on the floor of the basement, is hunting.

This was the sort of thought that Harry had after every full moon in an enclosed space - usually, it came from three hours worth of hunting howls, four hours of chasing his own tail, and five hours of reminiscing about when he would roam the Forbidden Forest with Moony and Padfoot - the freedom, the happiness - the company . . .

He hadn't seen either of them, or anyone he knew beforehand from the wizarding world, for about three years now. He'd made the decision without consulting anyone else, packed up and left magic alone. Why? Partly for recovery from the wounds he still retained from the Final Battle (as it was now termed, in a typical fit of aggrandizement, by the wizards of Britain) and partly for the privacy. Just before he'd left, any major wizarding newspaper you could buy was selling the story of how Harry Potter had betrayed wizarding England by - wait for it - being bisexual.

The sheer fury he'd exhibited had caused a miniature light storm in his living room.

_Speaking of living rooms . . . _Harry braced the palms of his hands against the cold cement floor and pushed, grimacing as he felt the aching muscles scream at him, before grabbing onto the nearby table. His hands ran over the many gouges nonchalantly until they closed upon his wand box - which he had made sure was locked securely ever since his third transformation, when the half-crazed werewolf part of him (still adjusting to it's new human confines) had managed to get a hold of his wand, and started casting spells with it somehow.

The occurrence had practically obliterated the few bits of knowledge about werewolves which had been obtained over the centuries by brave observers hoping for a cure. While Hermione had been feeling sorry for the books - for 'having been made to be wrong' - Harry had felt sorry for the observers, and for the werewolf population of the world - who would no doubt be badgered by Hermione until she had acquired enough scientific evidence to function socially once again.

Harry's hands trembled as they unlocked the wand box, and Harry was leaning heavily against the beaten wood. Changing from human to wolf was easy compared to changing from wolf to human, though Harry had never understood why. Moony had tried to explain it to him once, but Harry hadn't been in the mood for a lot of mumbo-jumbo about 'cellular duplication', so he'd ended up kicking the other lycan in the back of the knee and running for it. Harry grinned weakly at the memory, and unlocked the cellar door.

Ah, for times not so long ago . . .

(Scene Break - No. 13, Bannerman Road, Ealing)

Oh, for times long past . . .

Sarah Jane Smith sighed as the first rays of the morning sun came through her kitchen window, and dropped the two - unbroken - pieces of wire that she'd taken out of K-9's - well, she didn't know exactly what it was, but it looked a bit like some sort of motor to her. It wasn't like the Doctor had left her an instruction manual to look after the tin dog if he ever broke down, so how was she supposed to fix him?

She winced as she felt the effects of staying up most of last night settle as a weight right atop of her head, and closed her eyes, near relishing the near-burning sensation of the tired eyes getting some rest. Whenever it got to her - being here, back on Earth, all because of some posh alien in an odd hat calling back her - friend - to his home planet - she couldn't get any sleep, and always ended up opening up K-9 and staring into his circuitry.

Ever since Aunt Lavinia had died, she was always so lonely - K-9 could no more give her company than her toaster, Brendan Richards had died in a car crash only a few months after she had met him, and all of her UNIT friends - well, who cares about the daft old woman who hung around with some dandy, even if he was an alien? She knew this last thought was grossly unfair to Harry, the Brig, Mike, all of them, but . . . well, sleep deprivation did funny things to one's thoughts.

She was startled out of her reverie by the phone giving a ring - she gave a jump, blinked a fair few times and then leapt across to pick up the handset. She quickly accepted the call, and said "Hello?" A male voice, sounding just as tired as she felt, replied, "Miss Smith?" She felt a prickle of confusion, as she didn't recognize the voice, but replied, "Sarah Jane, if you please. What can I do for you?" She heard an ironic chuckle echo through the phone, followed quickly by an explanation.

"Since we don't seem to be standing on ceremony, you can call me Harry. Harry Potter. And I was wondering what you could tell me about a man called John Smith?"

(Chapter Four - End)

Author's Note

Ambrose: OK, that's the fourth chapter done - about time, you're probably all thinking. Well, we're sorry - been a bit caught up lately. It's all explained in our livejournal (and that didn't sound like self-advertisement at all, now did it?).

The Professor: Indeed. Now, here are the final pairing polls:

17 votes for a slash pairing  
7 votes for a het pairing (1 for HP/GW)  
1 vote for no pairing  
0 votes for author's discretion.

So it's a slash pairing. No flames for that, please - we have explained our reasons behind this in the previous author's note, so we did warn you.

Ambrose: Make sure you check out the new poll - you'll get a choice of which exact pairing we use (if the one you want isn't down there, then put it under 'Other' and send it in a review. Thanks for reading - no holds barred on the reviews, please!


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note:

Ambrose: Hello, and welcome to the fifth chapter of our story, "Might I Introduce?". A gigantic response to the last chapter - nine reviews at our count! And a personal request for a chapter? Could we be popular? . . . Nah. So, to SerenityMoonlight (who we are _very_ happy to welcome to Review Answers once again) - we're glad you liked the newspaper line. We weren't sure how well it'd go down, since the 'wait for it' sounded a bit pretentious to us. Still, cool! And - well, what do all of you guys think? Should we have more wizard characters pop up in the story? Any suggestions, requests? Send 'em in!

The Professor: Now for bertram-lee - well, popular opinion wins out on this one. Churchill said it himself - "Democracy may be the worst form of government there is - but it's better than the rest." But we'll repeat - no smothering of slash, so no worries, eh? Good! OK, and to Quetzacoatls (who we have to thank for this chapter - we _were_ going to update 'Broken Record' but a personal request makes us move!) - well, if a wizard can cast spells, why can't a werewolf? Simple (illogical) logic! You seem set on the idea of a Harry-on-the-loose - well, it's a good idea. Why not? :)

Ambrose: Why not indeed? Now, moving on to nxkris - we have to agree with you on the chapter length, but we cannot only write as much as our extremely limited brains shall let us! Please forgive us! A bit more background? Well, we'll try and get some more in, but it's a little hard when we don't know what to talk about - feedback, please? And now, Little Phoenix93 - according to most of the Doctor Who books, magazines, whatever, the werewolf from Tooth and Claw was two meters tall, and since we're basing Harry's form off of his, well . . .

The Professor: Moving on to Snow white Kitsune - Harry/The Doctor seems to be pretty popular right now. Still, it isn't a definite, guys - the poll is going to be up only until chapter six, so make sure you vote - wouldn't want you to be silenced, would we? Phew, this a lot to get through. So, to Aileen Cross - well, that's a question to be answered later. If we answered it now, it'd ruin the story. OK, it wouldn't - but it would give us a lot less to write about. So, yeah.

Ambrose: To Tanydwr - glad you've joined us. Sorry you didn't get a vote, but we stand by our previous statements - low-key slash. Very low-key. Wouldn't want to risk loyal readers, would we? Thank you for the compliment - light of our days, ya know! And here comes PirateCaptainBo - only up to the second Doctor? Wow, you have got _so _much to look forward to. Especially Pertwee, may he rest in peace. And Tom! "You're a beautiful woman, probably."

The Professor: Finally, to narmoture - we try rather hard on the characterizations, and we're glad if they're on the mark. Thanks. Oh, and yay! You're the first person to see both of us! Thought we'd gone overboard on the monocane, but it seems not - phew. And again, if this were a normal chapter, the actual story would be about three hundred words. _sigh. _Still, price you pay. And now, to the disclaimer - Harry Potter and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Harry Potter universe are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling, and of course all those guys at Warner Bros. who do the movies probably own a bit too. Doctor Who and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Doctor Who universe are the intellectual property of the BBC and the various editors and writers, ect. Any and all other references to outside TV shows, movies, cartoons, books, etc, are not in any way inclined toward encroaching copyright.

The Professor: Enjoy, read and review friends! And make sure to visit the poll!

(Chapter Five - Start)

As nearly anyone will tell you, a February morning in London in 2007 is probably one of the coldest places in the universe, even when compared to moons, which often don't have an atmosphere.. There isn't an actual reason for it - it simply is. Sarah Jane Smith experienced a cold not unlike that of Antarctica, and cursed herself for not grabbing a coat. _Now I know the difference between a coat and a jacket - one keeps you warm, one doesn't_. She grimaced as a strong gust of wind swept over her, and she began to quicken her pace down St. Aphonsus Road.

When Harry - he insisted on not being called Mr. Potter (he thought it sounded like a vicar's name) - had asked her about 'John Smith', she had nearly dropped the phone in sheer surprise. She hadn't heard the pitiable attempt at an alias for - what was it? - twenty years, and the name had given her goose-bumps. She'd instantly bombarded Harry with questions, and it took quite a few attempts for Harry to stop her babbling.

Then he'd told her about his UNIT assignment, and she'd become even more interested - this looked like a bona-fide alien 'incursion' (they'd stopped using the term invasion after the fifteenth alien to become offended at the term suddenly became hostile) and if 'John Smith' were there, then - then she'd better pull her finger out.

She'd asked Harry his address even before he'd told her anything more, and told him to wait for her to get there - then she'd tell him about 'John Smith'. He'd agreed, and then rung off - leaving Sarah Jane to scurry about her house and get over to Clapham post-haste. And now, after two arguments with bus drivers - here she was.

She turned to the right, and there was a clack of heels on concrete as she hurried up the driveway of number ninety four. There was a car parked out front, and even though Sarah had never kept up with 'boys toys' as she'd informed Harry (Sullivan, her mind separated - it'd get confusing if there were two 'Harry's') she knew this car - it'd been in her father's favorite film.

It was a 1968 British racing-green Ford Mustang, and it looked just like the one her father had adored so much. Quite surprised at the presence of such a - classic, car, Sarah took only another glance and arrived at the front door. It was a dark blue, had a metal 94 attached to it - and there wasn't a knocker, or even a buzzer. She was just raising her fist to knock when the door swung open, and then she put a face to the voice she'd heard over the telephone.

"Sarah Jane Smith?" The man said, sounding rather raspy, and looking at her with no small amount of interest - before a quirk of the lips at her still raised hand. "Harry Potter?" she replied, slowly lowering her hand and nodding to his question. He smiled, a glimmer of white teeth visible, and then stepped out onto the driveway - he was still shrugging on a beaten denim jacket, and checking his watch.

"That's me - now, if we hurry up, there's a really nice cafe just around the corner - " Sarah felt her eyebrow's furrow with confusion, and she couldn't help but ask, "I beg your pardon?" He looked back at her with equal confusion, before realizing his mistake - he hadn't just jumped the gun, he'd broken the world record.

"Oh, sorry about that - I just get, well, I suppose the term would be keyed up, when I get some company. You know how it is, - " Here she interrupted again, with a sardonic grin, " - the job doesn't lend itself the steady relationships. I understand, Harry. Lead on." He shared the joke with her, and closed the door behind him, fumbling with a key-ring before locking it. Then he started off down the driveway, and Sarah followed.

"But yeah, there's this really good cafe around the corner - do the best bacon you'll ever taste. And I find it easier to talk shop over warm food, 'specially in this weather." He nodded to himself as he said this, and Sarah hid a smile at his buoyancy - it made her think of the Doctor. Which reminded her . . .

"So - you wanted to know about - John Smith, was it?" She tried to sound uninterested, as if she didn't know 'Smith' well. She'd never been the best at misdirection, so it wasn't much of a surprise for Harry to turn around, walking backwards, and reply, "There's no need to play coy, Sarah Jane - we both know exactly who we're talking about." She felt her eyebrows raise, and Harry elaborated.

"You know - the biggest secret of UNIT, the mysterious John Smith who swoops in every time an alien warship flies over the Thames and saves the world. I need - to know about him." He twirled on the spot, breaking eye contact with her only for a second, and began walking properly again. Knowing that Harry probably knew less than he was letting on, Sarah decided to take pity on the lad - and he was that, really. Only twenty seven, she guessed - most people his age were either getting stitched together in A&E or in university.

"Well, then. You've come to exactly the right person." She smiled at him, and he smiled back.  
"The first thing you should know, is that he's called the Doctor."

(Scene Break - Deffry Vale Job Centre)

"Doctor." "Mhhhhhm?" "They're callin' you! Go on -"

Roused from his doze by Rose (and momentarily bedazzled by the power of rhyme), the Doctor got up from the remarkably comfy chair, yawned, and made his way over to the plastic desk, behind which a woman of about sixty sat. She had wispy white hair, a very dated floral dress - and a smile that the Doctor couldn't help but return. Looking at the computer screen, she began to talk.

"It seems all of your details are in order - there do seem to be a few gaps, however, so I'll have to ask you some questions - then we can send off the application to the school." The Doctor, looking around the room at the rather gloomy faces all around him, replied (in a mock-officious voice), "Oh, well, we can't have gaps, can we? No, no, no, no." The woman looked surprised at the amount of exuberance he was exhibiting, and said, "That's the spirit! Right, well - current address?"

The Doctor got a bit stuck there.

(Scene Break - Fantasia Cafe, Clapham)

"And he was stuck there?! Just - stuck?" said Harry incredulously to Sarah.

She was laughing at the surprise Harry was showing, and replied, "Stuck. And then - then comes along Alpha Centauri, and he gets stuck in the lift too. One eye, you see. So - so there's the Doctor, sandwiched between an Ice Warrior and an Alpha Centurian. And then, guess what?" She was quite enjoying the story, and so was Harry judging by the look on his face.

"Then Izlyr turns to Alpha Centauri - and he says, "Is that _your_ tentacle on my disruptor?" Harry gave a great guffaw at the punch-line, and sat his head on the wooden table, sniggering uncontrollably. Sarah was no better off, and was giggling into her tea. She was cut off, however, by the ring of a phone - and the feeling of her ridiculous 'old-people' phone vibrating in her jacket pocket. She frowned, and went to answer it.

Harry watched her curiously throughout the two minute phone call, and only raised an eyebrow when she finished talking, switched off the phone - and grinned at him. "That was my old editor - I used to be a journalist - and he says he'll quite happily accept an article on the record-breaking Deffry Vale High School. And he says I'm now quite free to do all the snooping I want." Harry grinned back at her.

"Smith and Potter Detective Agency - got a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

(Chapter Five - End)

Author's Note

The Professor: Right then, numero five done. Good - our conscience is appeased. (And excuse the DW geek joke above) Oh, and before we forget - here are the current pairing polls:

13 votes for Harry/The Doctor  
9 votes for Harry/Captain Jack  
4 votes for Harry/Parallel Fenrir Greyback  
1 vote for Harry/Sirius Black  
And 0 votes for all the others.

Ambrose: Keep up the votes people - it's you who decide if your pairing is the one we use. Now, that's another chapter done. How's the story so far - to you? That's what we want to know, people! Thanks for reading - no holds barred on the reviews, please!


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note:

Ambrose: Hello, and welcome to the sixth chapter of our story, "Might I Introduce?". OK, don't shoot! We know, we know - we haven't updated for ages. Sorry about that - now, we could go on about writer's block and coursework, but we think you'd prefer to actually read a chapter. Something that may take a while, judging by the gigantic pile of reviews we need to answer. But - we're going to set up another poll (yeah, we love those things) and you can choose whether or not you want the Answers in the chapter or - wherever. M'kay? Now, for those who haven't been paying attention to the polls - Harry/The Doctor has won, with a majority vote of 27 to Captain Jack's 16. Personally, we were hoping it'd be Harry/Jack - if only because we haven't written DoctorSlash before - but hey, we'll give it our best shot.

The Professor: Helluva lot to get through this round of Review Answers - which is why we're going to try and double the chapter length. Notice the word try. OK, so - to SerenityMoonlight - they do seem to make quite the duo, don't they? And we've never read a Harry/Doctor pairing before, so it'll be undiscovered country - but don't worry, we've got a plan for Rose. Heh-heh . . . Moving on to narmoture - we like to keep our characters as IC as we can, if only because we have an enormous amount of respect for the original portrayals - that, and it's a lot of fun. You liked the geek joke? Thought we were going a bit too far with that - glad to see someone liked it. We do like to link in the scene breaks, as it makes the writing flow more easily, and we're all for an easy job. (Ah - if we told you that, we'd have to kill you. :) Well, not really - that's just a fancy way of saying we haven't got a good enough answer).

Ambrose: To Quetzacoatls - who we humbly thank for the oodles of feedback we've been given - glad we could help. And no worries about the rant - we all need to vent sometimes. I think that's a good idea you've got there - we might be able to get that into this chapter. Maybe not . . . Moving on to Alasse Telrunya - would you believe you're not the first person to say that? Douglas Adams happens to be one of our favourite authors, so to have our styles likened to his - ah, bliss.

The Professor: To nxkris - "Patience, my brethren" as the Dalek Emperor said. But K-9 is going to come into play - if only because we thinks he rocks. OK, and to Snow white Kitsune - aww, you're making us blush. And we work at making the characters gel - it makes for better reading, we find. To Eloisa Skywalker - the two should meet this chapter. Though, it may not be the perfect meeting for the two - ooh, we feel evil. Moving on to The Group of One - would you believe we've never read Terry Pratchett? We keep meaning to, but - nada. Yay! We write like Douglas Adams - that makes the fan-boy inside die of joy.

Ambrose: A lot to get through - moving the RA may be the best decision, what with all the chapter being taken up with it . . . So, elvenmagick - three times the charm, eh? We're loving these parables. And now, to KekouanTheWhiteWolf - don't worry, we have a very cunning plan when it comes to Rose and the Doctor. "A plan so cunning that - " no, wait, that's Blackadder. :) And who knows? May-haps we could have Harry with the Doctor, and THEN with Jack. What do you guys think? Moving to swabloo - which is one cool name - we're warming to the idea of Harry moving on from the Doc to Jack. Please everyone that way - especially Jack, methinks. Nearly down now - whew - so, to kirallie -

The Professor: - have you noticed that everyone seems set on Harry being Minister? No-one's considered if it's a fixed point or in flux - maybe the Doctor got it wrong? Or maybe we're just throwing fish everywhere? It's times like this that I wish I had a good evil laugh. Penultimately, to Stefni - it'll be far from a perfect meeting, we can tell you that. The world of Doctor Who wouldn't allow for anything else, after all. Finally, to Freddy - the self-proclaimed ruler of the universe (bow, people! Bow!) - here you are. One new, extra-length chapter. Now that's done, to the disclaimer - Harry Potter and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Harry Potter universe are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling, and of course all those guys at Warner Bros. who do the movies probably own a bit too. Doctor Who and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Doctor Who universe are the intellectual property of the BBC and the various editors and writers, ect. Any and all other references to outside TV shows, movies, cartoons, books, etc, are not in any way inclined toward encroaching copyright.

The Professor: Enjoy, read and review friends! And make sure to visit the poll - we need to know where to put these wonderful Review Answers.

(Chapter Six - Start)

When you consider it, a car is quite a terrible thing. It produces tons of greenhouse gases (which would seem to outmatch even the Daleks in sheer likelihood of destroying the Earth), millions are killed in car accidents, and innocent animals are slaughtered to provide comfortable leather seating. _Very comfortable leather_, thought Sarah Jane as she ducked into Harry's car. As one can surmise, humans are not the most compassionate of races when it comes to comfort.

The two had composed a very loose plan of action after Sarah Jane's editor had called (over a third round of tea) and, though neither of the two said as such, it basically boiled down to one objective: 'Investigate the school.' Neither Harry or Sarah had been much good at planning things before hand - Harry because Hermione would always do it if it needed doing (and he always seemed to do better when he was flying by the skin of his teeth) and Sarah because a life spent with a man who didn't know the meaning of plan rubbed off on even the most cautious of people.

At least, that was what they told themselves.

Then they had made their way back to Harry's base of operations (he insisted on calling it that, as he believed calling it what it was - a rather dingy house - would make him seem as if he didn't know what he was doing) and Harry had gone inside 'to get something' - leaving Sarah Jane to regret not asking him if he had a jacket which would fit her. Thankfully, he had emerged not long after, with a small wooden box clutched in one of his hand's - and a thick black leather jacket in the other, which he gave to her with a simple statement of, "You were cold."

She had smiled at his thoughtfulness, and then they had got into the Mustang. Now they were on their way to the school, with the radiator on full blast, and a immobile robot dog in the boot - Sarah Jane had mentioned that she had something that might be useful at home while they were at the cafe, and Harry had, with a mysterious smile on his face, opened the boot of the car to reveal K-9 already there (he said he'd asked Lt. Benton deliver it, though Sarah had sworn Benton was on holiday for the next two weeks) - which was the current topic of conversation.

"So what's with the tin-dog? No offence, but you seem more the cat type." Sarah grinned, and said, with a mock-mysterious tone, "Who says I'm not? Why, at home I have my very own collection of cats - maybe you could come and see them. I think Fluffy would love you." She arched an eyebrow when Harry had shuddered, and was unsatisfied with his hurried reply of, "Bad memories." No doubt it was something humiliating and/or dangerous, with a side order of extremely funny. Knowing she would have plenty of time to dig it out of him, Sarah began explaining.

"When I got back to my house in Croydon - and let me tell you, that was an adventure in itself. I'm banned from the Abderdeen Amusement Arcade now - I found this silver wrapped box on the table in my front room. It had a little tag on it, which read, "_To a wonderful woman, whom I once told 'About what I do, yes - not necessarily about the way I do it' - here's your proof. Teeth and curls. _And I found K-9 in the box. Of course, he was working back then . . ." Sarah had a hazy glint (and a slightly dopey smile on her face) to her eyes as she remembered, and Harry grinned at her, before gently asking, "Teeth and curls?" Her grin grew more mischievous in nature.

"Mmm. That's what I called his new look - odd teeth, and really big hair. Oh, and his scarf - he was just so odd, but funny too. He had this odd fascination with jelly babies, as well - " Here Harry interrupted, with a mock-offended tone. " - Well, they were jelly babies!" She rolled her eyes, and replied, "Don't tell me you're one, too." He shook his head, but couldn't help but continue.

"Maybe not, but I DO know the value of a good jelly baby."

(Scene Break - Stringford Avenue Off-License)

"How can you NOT have them?! You obviously don't know the value of a good jelly baby!"

Rose and Mickey watched, aghast, as the Doctor started going off at the man tending the shop till, and Rose nearly dropped the packet of Bourbon creams she had in her hand when the Doctor started rooting around in his pockets - good God, that did NOT look right - while Mickey started sniggering into his jacket sleeve as the other people in the queue began to look more and more irate.

Deciding to take the initiative, Rose grabbed the Doctor by the back of his long brown overcoat and pulled him back from the counter. She sent the shop owner an apologetic look, and said, "Sorry - he gets like this from time to time - " Unable to resist, Mickey added, " - Usually when he hasn't had his pills." Rose said, under her breath, "Not - helping!" and began to push the Doctor toward the shop exit, trying to look as discrete as she could.

With a jingle of the bell, the three were out of the shop, and Rose let go of the Doctor, who immediately wheeled around and looked not a bit repentant - in fact, he looked as if he were ready to start on Rose as well. However, she cut that out quickly, saying venomously, "Say a word - and I'm calling mum down." He had a look of shock on his face at her below-the-belt threat, and only nodded as she reminded them of their task. "Now, if we're quite finished - maybe we can get on with what we're supposed to be doing."

She started off up the high street in the direction of the school, and Mickey clapped the Doctor on the back, offering him man-to-man advice, born of two years as her boyfriend.

"She always did have priorities.

(Scene Break - Deffry Vale High School Parking Lot)

"**Priority, one, initialised**."

Sarah sent Harry a scolding look, which he shrugged off while he nursed his foot tenderly. He was sure he could see a dent in the steel-toed boot, and looked at where he had kicked K-9 - as if to mock him, there wasn't even a scratch. "It worked, didn't it?" He offered, and breathed sigh of relief as Sarah seemed to calm down. He was, however, mystified when, instead of asking him if he was all right, or even showing concern, Sarah knelt down to K-9, half-asking, half-stating, "K-9?"

**"That is my designation, Mistress. Have you sustained a head injury?" **Frowning at the oddly cheeky reply from the dour robot, Sarah shook her head and asked her faithful companion, "Are you working all right?" The dog seemed to quirk it's head, and replied (after three seconds of what sounded like a dial-up connection starting up), **"Power consumption at below optimal levels - recommended charging cycle - " **Wondering exactly why she missed the dog so much, Sarah cut him short by saying, "You could just say yes, you know."

Creakily, the dog nodded, and he complied with his Mistress' request. **"Affirmative, Mistress." **Sarah Jane got back to her feet, and made a 'cut it' motion with Harry who had said, with no small amount of amusement, "The height of 51st century engineering, she says . . ." Indicating the school, she snapped, "Instead of cracking jokes, perhaps you could open the door?" Harry made a face at her back, and made his way over to the glass door. Sending a quick glance around at the darkening parking lot, he drew his wand, and unlocked the simple lock with a wordless Alohomora. Grabbing the knob and pulling, Harry drolly remarked to himself -

"The things I do for England . . ."

(Scene Break - Deffry Vale Dining Hall and Canteen)

"I bet no other country in the world has schools this creepy."

Mickey nodded at Rose's proclamation, while the Doctor simply sent her an odd look - the three of them were making their steady way through the dark, silent hall as if through a minefield, sending each other warning looks if they happened to upset one of the chairs. They had inspected the rest of the school, and apart from a few vacuum-packed rats, some odd Maths equipment and remarkably realistic skeletons in Biology (as well as a few odd bat cries that seemed to come from nowhere, they hadn't found anything substantial. Thus, they were making there way to the final place of investigation - the kitchen.

As they approached the door that led to the canteen kitchen, they began to relax, and the Doctor drew out his sonic screwdriver, before starting to speculate on some of the things they had found. "Maybe those rats were food." The other two sent him inquisitive looks, and Rose asked (as she usually did - the Doctor could depend on her to ask the questions that needed to be asked) "But - what for?" She laughed to herself, and continued, "Are you saying the Food Tech teacher has an odd diet?" The Doctor nodded, with a mock-considering look on his face, and was about to reply when a loud crack echoed through the hall - coming right from the kitchen door. They backed up, and the Doctor kept his screwdriver aimed at the door - they might know it was dangerous, but whatever was behind that door didn't.

A loud, masculine shout of pain followed with more cracks, with fewer gaps between each subsequent 'crack!'. Rose looked at the Doctor, and he knew what she wanted to ask - should they . . .? He sent the door another look, and winced as another, final crack came from the kitchen. He hesitated for a second - and that was enough time for Sarah Jane Smith to come tumbling through the door, looking scared for her life.

The Doctor felt his jaw drop in surprise at seeing his old companion, here of all places, after all of these years (still doing what they had always done), and a grin was about to spread on his face when Sarah looked up, locked eyes with him - and screamed, "Get out of here!" He made a motion as if to go to her, but she shook her head and got to her feet, shouting, "Go! Go!" Unsure of what could strike such fear into the woman who had stared down Daleks, for God's sake, the Doctor blurted out, "Sarah?!'

Recognition entered her eyes, and she said, with sheer incredulity on her face, "Doctor!" Rose joined in with the bizarre scene, saying, "Who?" switching between looking at Sarah (with no small amount of animosity in her gaze) and at the Doctor (with the venom of a woman scorned) as if she had elastic for a neck. Mickey broke the silence that ensued, with an arm pointing at the door Sarah had fallen through, and sounding as if he been run through with a sword. "Werewolf."

All four of them turned, as if in slow motion, to the grinning beast emerging from the door (which seemed far too small for such a mammoth being) like a demon from the depths of hell. They were paralysed with shock for a second more, until the wolf let out a guttural growl - the Doctor slowly turned to Rose, who was deathly pale as she stared at the wolf, which might as well have stepped out of one of her nightmares. "Tell me you have silver bullets." She shook her head slowly. "What are the odds we'd need them two times in a row?" The Doctor turned back to the still creature, shrugging lightly. "Pretty low, I'd think."

And then it pounced.

(Chapter Six - End)

The Professor: And that's all you're getting! Hah!

Ambrose: Ignore the Neanderthal - what he means is, "That's all from this update - thanks for reading, and make sure to review." Oh, and check out the poll, too - it's not terribly important, but we would like to know. See ya, guys!


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note:

Ambrose: Hello, and welcome to the seventh chapter of our story, "Might I Introduce?". Are the safeties on? 'Cause we are _so_ sorry that we took so bloody long, and to make it up to you guys and girls, we're going to make this chapter double length. Should end up around 4000 words or so. That's our peace offering. Now, the results are in from the poll, and the overwhelming majority is to use Review Reply - which we're fine with. These damn A/N's take up half the chapter. For those of you who are interested, the results went as follows: 10 votes (58%) for Review Reply, 6 votes (35%) for good ol' fashioned Review Answers, and 1 vote (5%) for Livejournal answers. Though where the missing 2% went, we have no idea . . .

The Professor: Final round of Review Answers, can you believe . . . Ah, well - all must come to past. So, let's start off with SerenityMoonlight - and we know you guys loved the end of chapter six, really. You just don't want to admit it. And I suspect we'll need good luck as the story progresses - we'll need to find a way to toe the line with the slash, so the, uh - non-Doc shippers don't get offended - or anyone else, for that matter. On now to aylan, a first time reviewer - they do indeed, and it's going to be a decidedly odd second meeting, let me tell you . . .

Ambrose: Mhm . . . Moving forwards to nxkris - we're glad you liked K-9 or, as we know him, the K Factor. We were a little iffy on how to do K-9, so we're happy he came out OK. On to SiriusBlackIsGod - which is a sentiment we're not going to argue with - we seem to have a universal reply to chapter six: "Update soon" and "Can't wait to see what happens next", and that makes us VERY happy indeed. Merci, merci - and now for one for all, and all for one. Yes, it's The Group Of One - we were giggling when we wrote that cliff-hanger, even though it was textbook evil, and - well, I wish **being** good felt as good as being bad. If that makes any sense.

The Professor: What time is it? Yes, it's the stalwart reader - Quet - za - coatls!!! Bow! Bow! I think we can all guess what was on the mind of everyone in that dining hall - namely, leaving Mickey behind, sprinkled with salt and vinegar. No? Ah, just the Doctor then. :) And yes, Harry is going to travel with the Doctor for a while - though not for long. Not gonna tell you how long, though . . . Moving on to Absentminded Dreamer 1310 - who seems to be older than us, as we're number 4242 - evil, evil, evil is all that is good! Muahaha . . . But nah, we are going to be extending chapters, starting from the next, as well as getting rid of RA, so no need to worry. And aren't we all just a _little _in awe of Harry? Just a little? Throughout the entire fandom, he seems to have bedded the most characters - Captain Jack would approve.

Ambrose: Getting near the end now, thankfully - and so we say 'yes' to Eloisa Skywalker on her question, that was indeed Harry. And now that you mention it, Harry/The Doctor is surprisingly thin on the ground, considering they're near perfect for each other - trouble magnets attract, after all. Moving on to TheEveningStar - why, I believe we DID leave you hanging there. Evil, we are - but don't worry, here's the answer to most of your questions. So you can get back to your hopefully comfy seat: it doesn't do to hang on the edge, after all.

The Professor: And finally, to the daughterofpenthesiliea - another first time reviewer - Harry is going to have a LOT of fun, at the expense of pretty much everyone else - and especially the Doctor, as you'll soon see. Now that's done, to the disclaimer - Harry Potter and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Harry Potter universe are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling, and of course all those guys at Warner Bros. who do the movies probably own a bit too. Doctor Who and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Doctor Who universe are the intellectual property of the BBC and the various editors and writers, ect. Any and all other references to outside TV shows, movies, cartoons, books, etc, are not in any way inclined toward encroaching copyright.

The Professor: Enjoy, read and review friends! Also, visit our newest poll ("I like to poll it, poll it - I like to, POLL IT!") where you can vote for which story you want to give top priority. Otherwise, we'll skate between stories, depending on when the idea's come, and we don't like to do that to you guys. Kay, see you at the end of the chapter!

(Chapter Seven - Start)

"Could you make any _more_ noise?"  
"I don't know, perhaps you'd like to find out?"  
"Well, if you weren't quite so clumsy - "

There was a sudden electric buzz in the sparsely lit hallway, before the line of lights above Harry and Sarah's heads switched on, and it only made it easier for them to glare at each other half-heartedly. Harry was the one who had turned on the lights, his hand still poised over the switch, while Sarah was looking at him like he'd set a swarm of bees on her - in other words, stung.

"I am _not _clumsy!" She hissed at him, while he simply stared at her incredulously. She gave up the animosity easily and quickly, replacing it with embarrassment, while he sent her a commiserating look; the investigation had progressed in such a way that it was no surprise that, had they not hit it off so well a few hours earlier, they would probably be at each other's throats by now.

It seemed that they had been beaten to the punch - a cupboard door in the Maths department had been open, a computer had been pulled onto a chair, with signs of having been tampered with - and it had set them on the edge, to say the least: they jumped at each other's shadows, they overreacted when one of them upset a chair and so on. Not only that, but they both admitted to a feeling of being watched, or not being alone at the very least, which only added to the stress. Sarah sighed.

"All right, I'm sorry for knocking the chair over, but I still don't think it would've happe - " Here Harry cut her off, bringing a hand to his mouth quickly in a bid for silence, and she complied (though she wasn't quite sure why - the last few times this had happened, he'd simply stood stock-still for a few seconds and shook his head, not bothering to apologise or explain at all, which Sarah thought he did just to be annoying) watching him freeze up again.

A bat cry, high and short, echoed through the hallway, and Harry instantly dived on her, bringing her down to the floor - she let him, knowing what he was doing, and she strained her ears for the next cry - _would it be louder, weaker - ? _The tense thought-train her mind was riding was cut short by a shadow suddenly falling over the wall they'd just been standing next to, and she clutched her mouth shut at the sight of an inhuman, gargoyle-esque shape, silently blocking the moonlight that fed in through the classroom window, and then through the window pane set in the door. Harry had pulled her close, and she could feel him - the thready _thump-thump-thump-thump _of his speedy heartbeat, the abnormal heat he gave out, even the short, quiet push-pull of his breathing - clutch her even closer as the shadow seemed to move.

Move as if facing the door.  
Move as if to open it.

And then move away.

She released the stale breath she'd been holding, feeling Harry do the same, before realising the vice-like grip she had on his body - with the tiniest of squeaks, she let go of him, smiling sheepishly as he regarded her in amusement.

"I don't blame you - I'm very cuddly. Come on; let's go!"

(Scene Break)

"I blame the shoddy workmanship - falling apart at the seams, this place - "

Harry was staring in (fake) bewilderment at the doorknob that had, not so long ago, been attached to kitchen door, while Sarah stared at him with an odd expression - he turned to look at her, missing the look, and held out the doorknob to her, as if in offering. She grinned slightly, and pointed back at the door. "I _think _that goes _there, _Harry." Looking at her with mock-reproachful eyes, he did as she asked and re-attached the doorknob, before gently easing the door open. He ducked his head inside, then turned back to her and opened the door wide.

It was the sort of canteen you'd expect in a school like this - plain white tiles, depressing grey countertops and ultra-modern ovens. Harry grimaced, wishing for the homely and rustic feel of the Hogwarts kitchens, while Sarah paid no mind to the odd decisions made by Government architects and proceeded to start digging through cupboards. Idly combing the kitchen for anything out of place, Harry muttered, "Looking for a midnight snack?"

Smacking her head into a thick wooden shelf in surprise, Sarah swore and replied, with gritted teeth, "Hardly - though now you mention it, I could go for a pizza - think there's a place that delivers 24/7 to the local police station?" The sarcasm wasn't really warranted, nor did she mind the breaking and entering, trespass - she _did _mind the throbbing spot on her skull, though. Harry didn't seem to notice her small outburst, seemingly satisfied with looking perplexed at something in his hand. Intrigued, Sarah stood - at the exact same time Harry ducked his hands into his pockets.

"The oil barrels." Sarah blinked. "There's something odd about them." She looked - grey metal barrels, loads of them, with lime green safety stickers on them. She turned back to him with a sceptical look on her face, and he rolled his eyes. "I don't suppose you could just take my word for it?" Wishing she could slam her hands on the table, but knowing not to dare, Sarah contented herself with saying, "Not when you could just explain why you think so - no need to be so cloak-and-dagger."

Harry smiled mysteriously, and he said, "You'd be surprised - there are other - things in the school, the Biology department has skeletons far too realistic for a British school - and there happens to be a rather circumspect murky green tinge to some of the oil coming out of _that_ barrel." He moved out of the way in time to avoid a collision, and settled for standing over a kneeling Sarah-Jane. He felt his nose twitch as an off smell - like hair being burnt on a soldering iron - reached him, and he decided to keep breathing to a minimum/

After about a minute or so of observing the now slightly uninteresting oil, Sarah broke the silence that had prevailed until then. "Well, that solves that then." Harry looked at her, afraid of the notion that she was carrying on conversations with him in her head, and felt his face crumple in disgust as she swept a small part of the leaking oil into her hand, where the translucent goop - there was no other word for it - seemed to shimmer the moonlight that struck her hand. Their forehead's furrowed at the exact same moment, and Harry swept up his own small puddle of oil into his hand.

It seemed oddly both solid and liquid at the same time, congealing if left alone but flowing like liquid if it was touched - Harry was no expert on oil separation, but he knew that oil, _proper _oil, was a liquid. Burning with curiosity, he couldn't help but consider what would happen if he ingested some of it, before realising with a slight blush that those sort of plans would fall into the stupid category. Sarah, too, was examining the goo with renewed interest, and Harry barely concealed a grin as she began playing with it as one would with those poets of goo that you bought for seven year olds.

He brought the liquid up to his nose, reasoning that it would have affected him by now if it were toxic _and _airborne, and took a deep sniff.

There was a loud clattering as Harry practically threw himself against the counter, trying to shake off the oil like it were a spider about to bite him, and Sarah watched with no small amount of concern as he shuddered violently, wiping his hand free of oil convulsively, and sneezed deeply. His throat was bobbing as he recovered his cool, and he only realised after swiping his forehead that he was sweating buckets, which made him stare without comprehension at the sheen of moisture that was pooling in his hand.

He sneezed once more, so deeply that he had to grasp the counter top (which began to buckle under his deathly-strong grip) in order to stay upright. Sarah made as if to approach him, with fear and apprehension written all over her face, but Harry shook his head violently, managing to dislodge a few droplets of the thin liquid that had begun to run out of his nose - eyes watering, Harry still managed to blush, thinking that it was snot that he had managed to spread around the kitchen, and wiped the remnants of it from his still-running nose. It was with widened eyes that he saw that it didn't have the consistency _or_ the colour of mucus.

It was blood.  
Blood that was bubbling, as if it were boiling on his shaking hand, when it came into contact with the moonlight.  
Thunderstruck, Harry saw the shape of his hand begin to blur, with a current of intense pain shooting up his arm as if electrocuted, and he knew - _of course he knew!_ - that tonight wasn't a full moon.  
And yet he was changing.

(Sarah's Point Of View - Deffry Vale Kitchen)

_Oh God, oh God, Harry - what the - what happened? The oil - it's _**_changing _**_him. No, no no, no!_ But there was no denying it - Harry had by now collapsed to the floor in what seemed like intense pain, not letting anything but a whimper out as his body began to enlarge and his lip tore as he bit through it. Then he shouted out, a sound devoid of anything but pure _agony. _Sarah felt her eyes prickle suspiciously as her friend contorted and convulsed in seemingly random ways, and it was only as his body began to take on a more canine - no, scratch that - lupine shape that she began to realised what she needed to do. His limbs seemed to grow, his fingernails ripped open to release vicious claws, and Sarah could only fall backwards toward the other door as the thing - it no longer retained any remnant of Harry's gangly body - twisted onto it's stomach, digging it's claws into the tile in a frenzied attempt to crawl - _after_ her, after _her_, she knew it!

She threw her body into the door, not daring to see how far the transformation had progressed in case of losing her nerve, and beat on the door with the power of desperation backing her up. She grasped the doorknob in a desperate grip, rattling it, begging it for a reprieve from the nightmare this night had descended into, and it was with an inaudible sob of relief that the door gave way, splaying her on the floor. There was an unpleasant ripping sound, which was even worse than the shuddering gasps that had by now turned into throaty growls, and then a sickening, thin splatter of blood caked the upper part of the door.

Sarah kicked herself away from the kitchen, her mind too firmly swathed in the cloud of terror that had swept over her mind to even consider getting up, and she manage to roll herself onto her side - which was when she locked eyes with immensely familiar brown eyes. Her mind began to edge back to reality, recovering enough ground to allow her to scream a warning to the owner of those eyes - and two other's as well. The one in the middle, the one with the eyes tensed up like a spring, made as if to move forward and help, but she shook her head like a floundering fish - they were going to get torn apart, they all were, and the thing wasn't going to be finished, either - shouting another warning, which elicited the oddest of responses from the tall, brown eyed stranger.

"Sarah?!" There was no mistaking the warmth in that tone, and even though it was a brand new voice coming from a brand new mouth, she knew exactly who was standing here after leaving her so many years ago. Sarah's mind boggled at the odds of it all, and she couldn't help but reply. "Doctor!"

The light in the man's eyes was the answer even before he nodded - it was the Doctor, and it would all be all right, how _couldn't_ it be - and, undeterred by the young blonde woman who stood next to him, who was looking between Sarah and the Doctor with the most jealous expression Sarah had ever seen, a smile - _new teeth_, Sarah dizzily noted - broke out over the new face.

"Werewolf." All four of them froze as the dark-skinned young man on the other side of the Doctor whispered with terror laced in his voice and pointed back into the kitchen. Sarah didn't dare look back, only readied herself to spring forward as she knew the monstrosity behind her was, and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle as the creature stepped forward and growled, as if stating a claim.

The Doctor slowly turned to the blonde girl in the seconds that followed, who looked as pale as Sarah felt, and said to her, "Tell me you have silver bullets." Sarah knew she wouldn't, and only felt her stomach tie itself in knots as she shook her head slowly. "What are the odds we'd need them two times in a row?" The Doctor turned back to the still creature, shrugging lightly, as he did whenever facing down the backwash of the universe. "Pretty low, I'd think."

And then it pounced.

(The Doctor's Point Of View - Deffry Vale Dining Hall)

The Doctor knew from the moment the werewolf had pattered out of the kitchen that it was either in the mood for food, play - or both. He still held the sonic screwdriver in his hand, and even though he knew that it wouldn't cause any lasting damage (which was exactly what he loved about it), he could still give the wolf a sound-bite it would never forget. (He was glad that this terrible pun would never be known to the world beyond his mind)

The wolf had pounced not on any one of them, but instead had leaped from the doorway leading into the kitchen to the table not two metres away from the Doctor. In short; it was right in front of him, he didn't dare move, and he really wished he could do a Vulcan nerve pinch properly (it only worked three out of ten times, and he'd tried sixteen times this last century - so he had to wait for another failed attempt to pass). Slowly and deliberately, he moved his hands in front of him - not to protect himself, but as if he were going to _catch_ the werewolf when it leapt on him (which it _was -_ he knew it, and he was rarely wrong), and said, "Now - _stop, and THINK."_

That was what he had planned, at least - in reality, he had missed the werewolf tense its immensely powerful leg muscles tense, and as such he only managed to say 'stop' before it propelled itself forward right onto him. He groaned as the heavy creature came to rest on his body, feeling the air being forced out of his body like a trumpet - he missed the others gasping in fear, and probably wouldn't have cared if he did (_he _was the one being pounced, after all) - before letting his head clunk against the wooden floor. His eyes lined up with the wolf's exactly at this angle, and his forehead furrowed as he saw the intense autumn gold eyes with _just _a glimmer of emerald green around the rim - could - ?

His thought train was, however, derailed as the wolf leaned its furry head closer to him, eyes boring fiercely into his, razor sharp teeth gleaming - and _licked _him.  
The wolf _licked _him.  
On the face.  
The wolf had _licked _him, on the face - eurgh, that was just - eurgh.

He had no way of stopping the beast, though - its heavy paws were firmly perched on his legs and chest, and it seemed far too interested in his hair and face to even consider eating him. Far be it from the Doctor to remind it, and so he let the curious beast lick to its heart's content - he could feel the wolf's tail wagging so much that it was shaking the Doctor himself - for a minute or so before patting it on it's muzzle (noting the almost blanket-soft feel of the black fur) and sending it a look that clearly said '_I'm tired.'_

The lupine gave a plaintive whine, like a dog that was being shrugged off after greeting its master, and the Doctor - rolling his eyes up at Rose, Mickey and Sarah, who had gathered above his head and were looking concerned, though no longer scared - scratched it behind the ear, which it seemed to like, and made as if to sit up. The wolf, huffing all the while, complied, and the Doctor winced as he felt blood return to the places the wolf had put its paws. Still wincing, he held a hand up to his three companions - well, two and a half - for help getting up and was soon back on his feet.

Rose seemed intent on checking his face and neck for bites or scratches (she alternated between this and sending glares at the wolf who, having hunched over as if it were sitting on thin air, looked nearer smug than anything else) while Mickey was staring at the wolf with something like terrified respect in his eyes - Sarah had sat herself on one of the tables, clutching her heart, and glancing between the Doctor and the creature in intense confusion. The beast looked at her, and she could only shield her face in her hands, the memory of her fear imprinted freshly on her mind. It gave another whine, and she shook her head, though she didn't know why.

Mickey sighed heavily, gaining everyone's attention (even the wolf's, which had leaned forward in something approaching interest) and said, in a mock-forceful tone -

"If he leaves a present in my shoe, I'm out of here."

(Chapter Seven - End)

Ambrose: So whaddya think? Eh, eh? Tell us! We need to know!

The Professor: Excuse him for a minute - he's a little bit over-excited at the moment, but he DOES have a point - make sure you send us a review or mail, even if it's just to tell us that we should stop writing, that we're gits for not updating, that a deer can swim better than a wolf (true fact) - whatever. And check out the - fourth poll? Something like that.

Ambrose: Thanks for reading, and leave a review. See ya next chapter!


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note:

Ambrose: Hello, and welcome to the eighth chapter of our story, "Might I Introduce?". Hiya, guys! Nearly an on-the-dot update, can you believe - just about a week, which, for us, is pretty impressive. However, we hit a bit of writer's block with this chappie, so it's a lot shorter than the previous one, but there's not much we can do about that - not without sacrificing about another week. Sorry - best we can so. Also, we're pretty new to the whole Review Reply system, and we may have managed to send some replies to the wrong addresses - if so, we apologise, and offer you a life-size Harry plushie to show how sorry we are. Right then - Professor?

The Professor: Now that we've got that over with - to the disclaimer! Harry Potter and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Harry Potter universe are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling, and of course all those guys at Warner Bros. who do the movies probably own a bit too. Doctor Who and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Doctor Who universe are the intellectual property of the BBC and the various editors and writers, ect. Any and all other references to outside TV shows, movies, cartoons, books, etc, are not in any way inclined toward encroaching copyright. Bit of a mouthful, that is.

Ambrose: You don't say? Well, what more can we say but; enjoy, read and review friends! And well done on you guys for voting - this story is ahead by about, oh - fifteen votes? Pretty good, pretty good . . . Kay, see you all at the end of the chapter!

(Chapter Eight - Start)

A loud, incredulous snort sounded in the hall.

The wolf looked decidedly uninterested (he was scratching lightly at the wooden flooring, as well as avoiding eye contact after its decidedly human snort), while the Doctor, Sarah and Rose were looking at Mickey with something akin to pity - or boredom - in their eyes. He shifted uncomfortably underneath their gaze, and caught the wolf's eye, trying to send it an imploring look. The wolf seemed to raise an eyebrow, and Mickey mouthed (hoping the other's couldn't see), _please?_

The wolf - either taking pity on him, or simply feeling impulsive - began pawing at the Doctor's overcoat, as a dog would when it had smelt a treat on their master, and the Doctor jerked away with a sound not unlike a giggle and a hiccup. Before it could try again, the Time Lord had found the offending item - the bag of jelly babies he'd had in his Eighth incarnation (which had somehow survived a Time War, two regeneration's and the snacking moods the Doctor often fell foul of) - and threw them onto the table. With a quick rip, the confectionary had scattered all over the floor, and the wolf was lost to the joys of sugar.

Seeing that the wolf was distracted, the Doctor turned to Sarah Jane, beamed at her, and lifted her up in a bone-crushing bear hug (which she had no objection to) before setting her down again. He beamed again, seemingly unable to stop grinning, and began to introduce her to his latest companion (_and her baggage_, his mind added in). "Sarah, this is Rose, and Mickey. Rose, Mickey, this - is _Sarah-Jane Smith."_

Rose and Mickey looked at each other, before Rose tried to bridge the gap created by the Doctor's odd introduction (with minimal embarrassment). Trying to find the tone which said I'm-covering-for-him and who-the-hell-are-you-to-_him? _at the same time, she said, "Oh, Sarah-Jane! The one you - um - you talk about, _all the time."_ This last part was more aimed at the Doctor than Sarah-Jane, and he looked confused at her rather accusatory statement. Before he could answer, however, Sarah jumped into the conversation.

"Has he? I mean, when I was with him - well, he must have changed _quite_ a bit." Her tone was bright (but distracted - she was still looking at the wolf with confused eyes) and she seemed rather happy. Rose wished she were the same. Through gritted teeth, she replied, "You don't say?" The Doctor had cottoned on to why Rose looked as if she'd quite like to feed him to a herd of angry Reapers, and he opened his mouth weakly, before closing it again, looking properly chastised.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the hall, only broken occasionally by muffled snorts and the snapping of powerful jaws as the wolf continued its midnight snack. The Doctor eventually clapped his hands together, turning to Sarah-Jane (his expression forcibly neutral), and said, "Anyway! Now - " he indicated the creature with a thumb " - wolf?"

Their attention was now focused on the oblivious beast, which had worked its way through the green and yellow babies by now, and Rose was the first to reply. "Yeah, wolf." Sarah and Mickey were quick to echo the sentiment, and it took the Doctor a while to realise that they were all looking at him for an answer - which he didn't have. So he deflected the attention - onto Sarah. "A wolf which followed you out of _that _kitchen, _so_ - the question is, who is he?"

Sarah furrowed her eyebrows, and it took a few seconds for her to actually realise that she had the first piece of the puzzle. So, she recounted what had happened in the kitchen - jumping into it, sparing no words for Harry beforehand -, "Well, unless that - change, was some kind of teleport gone horribly wrong, then that would be Harry." The Doctor's hearts leapt into his mouth, and he begged Sarah not to say what he _knew _she was going to say, because it was just his luck that it would be on his watch, and so he would be obligated to fix the problem. _Please, please, please, please -_

"Harry Potter."  
"First brown hair, and now _this_."

------

"OK - Harry?"

The wolf turned toward the Doctor as he called out the name, and he felt his eye twitch - there was no denying it now. _Ah, well, _he thought, drawing the sonic screwdriver from his coat pocket, _no use complaining about it - now, how to do this without making this wonderful hair all bloody?_ He held the device in his two hands toward the wolf - _Harry_, his mind supplied - and he said, slowly and as calmly as he could, "I'm just going to run a scan on you - it isn't going to hurt, just some blue light and a little - sound." His eyebrows leapt up, and his eyes twinkled as he added, "Like this." He imitated the whirring sound, which, while making Mickey look at him like he was crazy, seemed to reassure Harry that the Doctor made no harm.

Taking a few steps forward until he was standing in front of the crouching Harry, the Doctor held up the thin cylinder - as if it were a paintbrush - and slowly pushed down on the switch. The wolf twitched as part of its neck fur was bathed in electric blue light, but otherwise remained calm, and the Doctor began to run the device up and down the creature, paying special attention to it. His eyebrows met, and his tongue was running over his teeth, as he brought the screwdriver toward the jaw.

He leaned in closer, and Harry gave a slight whine as the sound (which had begun to hurt his extremely sensitive ears) came even closer; to comfort him, the Doctor ran a hand over the fur of the lupine neck, which seemed to soothe the agitated creature, before backing off once more, shaking his head. Without warning, the Time Lord leaned in again, grasped Harry's head at the temples, and closed his eyes. The wolf gave a yelp, and then a mournful whine as his and the Doctor's minds came into contact. The hold increased slightly, and the two stayed in the odd embrace for a good minute or so before the Doctor opened his eyes, backed away - and began to shrug off his overcoat.

He mouthed 'hold on' to the bewildered audience, and it was not a second later that the wolf suddenly got up on its hindquarters, head held up high (and everyone cringed, expecting the wolf to howl its lungs out, bringing the police upon them) - before falling straight backwards without a sound, crushing one of the tables as it went. Even then, it was shrinking and becoming more human in shape - evidently, the Doctor had managed to reverse the transformation.

The quartet looked on, three quarters of them shocked and bemused, while the fourth had draped his coat over the unconscious creature, before standing with his hands in his pockets and looking oddly petulant. When Rose noticed, she snapped out of her stupor and asked, "Wha's wrong wi' you?" He shook his head, kicked his foot and replied -

"Janis Joplin gave me that coat - it's gonna have wolf fur all over it."

------

"I'm not going to change, am I?"

The Doctor looked over the pale, shivering form of a perfectly normal Harry Potter at Sarah, and he raised an eyebrow. She took that as a sign to carry on, and did so. "I mean, Harry smelt the oil, and - he changed, so . . ." The Doctor was shaking his head even before she had finished her sentence, and started to explain it to her in a low voice, but loud enough for the nearby Rose and Mickey to hear as well.

"I'm guessing that the oil had a greenish tinge to it? Didn't have a consistent state?" At her nod, he continued. "Sounds like some sort of conduction agent - makes the neuro-electric signals in your brain move faster, and makes you seem smarter - great for parties - but it's not really doing anything, all the intelligence is there, it's just letting you add it all up a bit faster." He took a deep breath, and with a slightly pained expression, soldiered on with the explanation.

"My guess is that when our Mr Potter inhaled the oil, the conductor entered his brain, and instead of quickening the signals, it managed to - _reverse,_ one of the signals down the wrong neural pathway - one unique to those of Harry's kind. Don't worry, he isn't brain damaged or anything, - " he added at Sarah's fearful expression, " - he'll just be a bit groggy. Usually, that pathway can only be accessed by a specific type of brain-wave - one that occurs spontaneously when the host comes into contact with full on moonlight - but I wouldn't be surprised if the oil is slightly - mutagenic in nature. The mutated brain-wave triggers the transformation - and that, boys and girls, is how you make a werewolf!"

The hall was silent for a moment. Then, Mickey broke the silence. "Ya know, i' kinda of ruins the whole legend when you rattle off a loada science explainin' it all." Sarah snorted, and the Doctor held his hands up in what was seemingly a gesture of apology. "Hey, I love a good fairy-tale as much as the next alien, but when it's simply a matter of brain science and genetics - " Rose broke in here, grinning as she said, " - I love 'ow you say brains and genes 're simple."

The Doctor seemed to flush slightly at her innocent statement, and it took him a moment to work up a reply. "Well, if you want to keep believing in fairy tales, then that's fine by me. But if you stake a vampire and it doesn't work, don't blame me." Rose shrugged. "We won' - we'll jus' blame th' fairy tale." All conversation was stalled, however, when their until-now comatose ward rolled over and mumbled, "_Read the one 'bout the Fair Fortune . . ."_

The Doctor looked down in surprise at the waking werewolf, and a smile broke over his face. "Oh. 'Ello! Sorry, did we wake you?" Harry nodded jerkily, and muttered, in a hoarse voice, "I think you did, yeah." He tried to stretch out his body but fell piteously short, only managing a faint twitch and whine - Sarah instantly shot up from her chair and retreated to the kitchen, presumably to retrieve some water, while Rose and Mickey leaned in closer in order to watch Harry.

The Doctor slid his chair back in order to let Harry sit up, wincing as he did, and gave him a smile of what he hoped was comfort as the beleaguered younger man looked around him, meeting each of their gazes before turning back to the Doctor. "Sarah?" There was an undercurrent of fear and worry in Harry's tone as he said his friend's name, and the Time Lord was quick to placate him, helping him move his body in order to see Sarah coming back to the group with a glass of water clenched in her hand. She offered the werewolf a tentative smile, which he returned, and handed him the cold glass.

He took massive gulps at first, before slowing down as the water began to run out, and he soon set the glass aside with a trembling hand, before self-consciously wiping his mouth. Coughing throatily, Harry realised that he hadn't any clothes on, and he blushed slightly - at the Doctor's enquiring look, he motioned to his current state of undress, and shifted his feet back under the surprisingly warm overcoat - it _was _February, after all.

With a short jab to the chest, Harry had officially joined the land of the living, and he tried to get things back on track. "So, who are you lot then? I mean, I've seen you two before - " he nodded at the Doctor and Rose as he said this " - but I don't think that constitutes a proper meeting." Sarah raised an eyebrow, and interjected, "Because lying naked on the floor of a school canteen does?" Harry stuck his tongue out at her, before turning to the others with a questioning gaze, which the Doctor met, and he began introductions once more.

"Right, yes - sorry, got a little - side-tracked, I suppose . . . But this is Rose, - " the blonde raised a hand in greeting " - Mickey - " while the self-proclaimed defender of the Earth simply nodded " - and I - am the Doctor." Harry knew that the man itched to add in a dramatic flourish, with a sweeping of hands, but was glad he restrained himself - he was running low on enthusiasm.

Which was why, when the Doctor clasped his right hand in the both of his and shook it like he was meeting the Queen Mother, Harry only raised an eyebrow, before saying, "Is there something wrong with my hand?" The Time Lord looked confused, and Harry continued. "Or with you, for that matter?" The Doctor shook his head, grinning, and Harry pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off agitation. "Then why are shaking my hand as if I'm about to do my best Venus de Milo impression?"

"It's not that - it's just - " the Doctor looked near giddy with excitement, and Harry eyed him warily " - can I just say, _what an honour it is - "_ Harry groaned, and the Doctor looked worried, although the worry soon changed to chagrin as Harry followed up with -

"Oh, God - don't tell me _you're a fan!"_

_------_

"Why is there an apple in this dressing gown?"

Rose looked over to Harry, who was eyeing said fruit in surprise, and realised that Jackie might be having an awkward conversation with Howard sometime soon, before answering his question. "Oh, tha's Howard - sorry, 'e get's 'ungry." Harry looked over at her, bewildered. "What, he gets hungry in his sleep?" Rose stifled a snicker at his expression - an exact copy of the Doctor's that Christmas just gone - and replied, "Sometimes." Shaking his head, Harry slipped the green fruit back into the pockets of the gown, and drew the cloth belt a little bit closer to his chest.

"Right, then!" The Doctor had come back from the kitchen with Sarah Jane and Mickey by now, with a small jam jar filled with the oil, and had stopped his sulk - which had originated from being called a 'fan-boy' by one of his all-time heroes, when he'd only met him for a few minutes (The Doctor should've known by know that you should _never _meet your heroes) - long enough to dig out a dressing gown, undershirt and sweatpants for Harry. The quintet had decided not to push their luck - it was nearly four in the morning, and who knew when the nefarious (Harry had objected to this adjective, on the grounds that it made them sound as if they didn't know what they were doing) aliens would return? - and made plans to meet up back at Harry's 'base of operations'.

Or, as Harry had put it -  
"Tea and biscuits at my house!"

(Chapter 8 - End)

Ambrose: Mhm, a bit of a filler chapter for me - then again, I feel that about half of the chapters, and you guys seem to like them . . .

The Professor: That you do - OK, before we wrap up, we want to say sorry about the crappy writer's block, and the whole 'nothing happens' vibe that seems to pervade the chapter - heh, I said perv - but it's the best we can do at the moment. It'll be better next time - Scout's Honour. Does that count, considering we're not scouts?

Ambrose: No idea, but I think they get the message. Right then, thanks for reading, make sure you leave a review - and see ya next chapter!


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note:

Ambrose: Hello, and welcome to the ninth chapter of our story, "Might I Introduce?". So, been a while, eh? Well, about that . . . SNOW! SNOW! IN LONDON! We were just a wee bit occupied, you see - especially considering we seem to have dislocated or pulled something in our arm, and it bloody hurts. Still, we haven't got school, and we've been wanting to update for a while now, so - here we are! OK, now that's over with - Professor?

The Professor: On to the disclaimer! Harry Potter and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Harry Potter universe are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling, and of course all those guys at Warner Bros. who do the movies probably own a bit too. Doctor Who and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Doctor Who universe are the intellectual property of the BBC and the various editors and writers, ect. Any and all other references to outside TV shows, movies, cartoons, books, etc, are not in any way inclined toward encroaching copyright. Bit of a mouthful, that is.

Ambrose: You don't say? Well, what more can we say but; enjoy, read and review friends! And we're still ahead - by twenty three votes! Wow, wow, wow! Why, I could just burst into song - but I won't, 'cause you humans don't much appreciate Book-Wolf symphonies such as mine - shame, really. But anyway - enjoy!

(Chapter Nine - Start)

"I don't have a man crush!"  
Sarah and Harry sent the Doctor an odd look at his sudden proclamation, and Harry took in the scene.

They had made it back to his house (_Base of Operations, Harry, Base of Operations - )_ in what seemed like record time - of course, that may have been something to do with Harry literally slamming the accelerator into the floor of his car the moment all seat-belts had been done up - and Harry had immediately rushed upstairs to get some clothes on. It hadn't anything to do with what must've been the biting cold of February - werewolves ran at a higher temperature than humans, as well as whatever species the Doctor was - but more the blushes and discomforting looks he'd been subject to in the car.

Harry wasn't normally self-conscious about his body, but spontaneously transforming - and walking about naked - in front of four near-strangers did things to your outlook.

He had, after a brief mourning period for his battered old denim jacket, slung the bomber jacket that Hermione had given him for his eighteenth birthday - she said it made him look like a detective (in a good way, apparently) - atop of his usual shirt and pants combo. After digging out one of his replacement pairs of shoes (dark blue Converse - according to Marion, they were the unofficial off-duty UNIT footwear), he had run a hand through his supernaturally messy hair before hurrying back downstairs.

Rose and Mickey looked embarrassed, gleeful and smug at the same time as they remained seated around the kitchen table, while the Doctor had his face in his hands and was shaking his head as he leaned on the table. Sarah and Harry were half-seated, half-stood on the kitchen counter with the biscuit barrel between them, and Harry finished off the bourbon in his mouth before speaking.

"If we could stay focused for a minute?" They all made vague sounds of agreement, and Harry sighed in relief, before signalling the Doctor to take the floor. The taller man sprung up from his chair as if he'd been electrocuted, then began to pace and talk at the same time - Harry suspected this was a habit of his.

"OK, so - there's a whole suitcase of bad going on at that school. Agreed?" He looked around, and they nodded. He started ticking things off on his fingers. "One - kids and teachers are vanishing into thin air. B - no, wait, sorry - two, teenagers are getting straight A's in _every_ class _and_ they're actually taking _extra_ classes. Three, or C, or driya - we have multiple barrels of mutagenic oil being used as cooking fat for chips." He shook his head. "No respect, these guys."

Rose was frowning, and interjected before the Doctor could continue. "Bu' - they're jus' kids. Why them? 'S it the Demon 'Eadmaster, or somethin'?" She grimaced, as if expecting to be laughed at for her analogy, but no-one did - they were too busy trying to come up with an answer.

Harry went first. "Maybe they're doing something to the kids - trying to control them? Make them into some kind of army?" The Doctor shook his head. "Too much effort, too little gain - the children would make terrible soldiers, and any alien with half a brain would _know _that." Sarah cut in. "Maybe it's not that smart - maybe, it doesn't realise - "

The Doctor shook his head again. "Even if it were that thick, it'd know from first-hand observation how humans fight - and that the kids just aren't invasion material. We're dealing with something smarter than your average Klingon, here." Mickey snorted at the reference, before giving his own two cents. "Maybe i' needs 'em? Like, i's feedin' off-a them, or . . ."

The Time Lord was considering it, and he stood stock still for a moment before letting out a groan and running both hands through his hair - then, he dragged his hands down so they were clasped over his mouth like he was praying, and paced again. "Nah, it isn't eating them - well, I don't think so - but if it were stealing their life energy away, we'd notice. The parents would notice - the kids themselves . . ." A silence prevailed, before Harry tried to inject some humour into the discussion.

"It IS school, after all - maybe they think it's just the learning that's making them so sleepy." The Doctor grinned tiredly. "No - but good idea." Harry grinned back at him, not even sure why he did it, and they held each other's gaze for a moment before breaking off. Rose, not to be overshadowed, tried to express the still-forming theory in her mind, with thoughts of 90's television still on her mind.

"Could i', be, um, using their brains? I mean, a school's th' only place you ge' away wi' givin' people things to solve, so . . ." The Doctor felt a surge of excited realisation well up in his chest, and then he was talking at ninety miles an hour. "You're right, 'course you're right - the kids are like one big calculating machine, adding up and writing and all of that, and that's why they need the oil! They're speeding up the kid's minds, so that they'll work out - whatever it is - faster. Oh, Rose you're a genius!" He swept her up in a hug, and Harry traded looks with Sarah, before grabbing another biscuit and scoffing it.

Mickey chose that moment to let out a jaw-popping yawn, and Rose grinned at her friend, then turned to the Doctor with a look of utter solemnity.

"A genius who'll cry Mum if she's woken 'fore ten, so go fin' somethin' to do while she sleeps."

------

"Raiders of the Lost Ark."

"Sorry?" The four others stuffed into the car all turned to look at Harry, who they had assumed was sleeping, with confused expressions, and Harry sighed before elaborating. "It's a game. One of us gives the name of a movie, and another one of us gives us one that starts with the final letter of the first." Their expressions held. "Oh, come on! It's Sunday, these aliens aren't coming along for a while, not without looking like complete freaks. We need something to keep us entertained, **so - **Raiders of the Lost Ark." There was silence in the car.

"K-19: The Widowmaker." Rose, Mickey and Sarah turned to the Doctor in consternation - why was he going along with this? "What? He's got a point." Harry nodded. "Good movie. R . . . Resident Evil." The Doctor shivered. "Labyrinth. Now that was a good movie, 'specially since I was in it." Harry laughed incredulously. "It's true! I was the voice of one of those red birdy things - got to meet Bowie and everything." No-one spoke for a while - not one of them would admit to trying to find a movie beginning with H.

"Hairspray."

------

"I pity police officers."  
"I know - they have to do 'surveillance' all the time."  
"No, not that - I just think it's a godawful uniform."  
"Oh, just you wait till 2036 - neon blue jackets and Barbie pink helmets."  
"Shut up."  
"I'm being serious!"

"And so am I - here they come." With that, the Doctor shut up. He quickly jogged the other three members of their party from what looked like a not-so-restful sleep (Rose was muttering about the Sugar Puff Monster), and he soon saw the teachers. All thirteen of the new additions to Deffry Vale School were marching into the entrance hall of the school, apparently oblivious to the quintet huddled in the car, and Harry leant a foot on the accelerator, as well as keeping a hand on the ignition - quick escapes were usually the norm for him. Thankfully, however, the formation of suited men and aproned women paid them no heed, and soon they were gone.

Harry relaxed, foot and hand easing off, and turned to look at the back seat. "Mickey! Get ya arse off me hand!" There was a quick scramble of movement, along with quite a few 'masculine' whimpers of pain, and then silence as they all righted themselves. They looked collectively to the Doctor, who had his gaze fixed to the school. His voice cut through the sudden tension.

"Unofficial Ofsted time, I think." No one laughed, no one even said anything, and there was very little noise in the car park, save the ever-present Sunday morning bird song, as they moved toward the school. The Doctor fished out his sonic screwdriver, a grim look on his face, and the quiet sweep of the glass door only seemed to add to the eerie feeling that seemed to fill the air - they all knew the risks, they all felt terrified at going on in without the upper hand, and they all knew that there was a very real possibility they might not come back out again.

Quite why these thoughts hadn't occurred to them before was a mystery, but they had no time to question their sudden feelings of unease - they had a job to do. The Doctor whispered instructions to them, careful not to send them off on their own; that would be like asking for trouble. "Sarah, Mickey, you're with me - we're gonna go check the computers. Rose, Harry - Headmaster's Office. Any problems, we meet back here - any questions?" They shook their heads, the Time Lord nodded, and they split up, Harry and Rose going up the stairwell while the Doctor, Mickey and Sarah doubled back through the dining hall and went upwards.

------

"So, where're you from?"  
"Surrey."  
"Not America, then?"  
"Do I sound American?"

"Nah - I was jus' thinkin' you migh' be an American werewolf in London." There was a slightly smug grin on Rose's face as she pulled off the inevitable stock joke, and she nearly let loose a laugh at the almost insulted look on Harry's face. "Yeah, well, just call me Larry Talbot and get it over with." It was Rose's turn to be confused. "Larry who?" Harry shook his head, tutting slightly. "Forget about it." Apart from the clip-clop of their shoes, silence reigned supreme once more.

"How's a girl like you get into these sorts of situations, anyway?" Rose sent him a look, and he shrugged, intoning, "Would you rather the silence?" She conceded the point, and she began to explain how she had met the Doctor. "Jus' by chance, really - there was this lottery money, see, and the shop I worked at was closin', so I got the job o' bringin' the stuff down ta Wilson, the electrician who won it. Was only 'bout fifty quid, but anyway . . . I get down to the place where they store all o' the dummies an' clothes, try to find the bloke. Have a bit of a looksie." She stopped, and Harry immediately said, "Ey, come on - sounds like it's gonna get interesting!" She grinned.

"Well, yeah - so, I'm down in th' basement, all o' these shop window dummies around, when the door closes. I run back, 'cause I think it's some kinda joke; then, I turn round, and one o' the dummies is just sorta - there. It moved, creaks an' all. So, freak out time - I back up, an' up, and it raises i's 'and." Harry was drawn into the story, his attention focused onto her like a magnifying glass. She continued. "Then, like outta nowhere, someone grabs my 'and. I turn round, and there he is." Harry nodded. "The Doctor." She nodded. "An' it just, sorta, went on from there." Harry was silent, and Rose quirked her head at the silent lycanthrope.

"Wha' bout you? Bet you got a story worth tellin'." Harry gave a haunted grin, and she shivered. "You could say that."

_(Flashback - August Third, 2003)_

_"So, what is it again?" Harry spoke into the radio Remus had gifted him before clambering down the ladder, and there was a crackling as the reply came. "They've no idea, apparently - 'course, I don't buy that, not for a minute, but they don't seem in the mood for a talk. All they say is something big." Harry gave an incredulous laugh. "Something big? What, have the crocodiles suddenly gone bipedal?" Remus was quick to retort. "That's alligators, Harry, and no, they haven't - the WII - " Harry laughed again. "The _**_what_**_?" There was a growl in Remus' voice as he replied._

_"The Whatever-It-Is. And it doesn't match any known animal, Muggle or Magical. I've checked. All I get is steel and plastic." Harry's eyebrows rose. "Steel and plastic? Remy, it's a sewer, not a junkyard - are you trying to tell me there's a dumpster monster down here?" Clunk. Harry's head whipped around, and he missed Remus' reply. CLUNK. There it was again. _**_CLUNK_**_. Getting closer, too. As the forth clunk made itself known, Harry was gripped by a sudden feeling of fear, and he instinctively made for cover, ducking into an alcove._

_Just in time, as well. A fifth clunk sounded, and then there was silence. Harry could feel his heart beat accelerate - that was a quick result, wasn't it? But what was it? He remembered the radio still clutched in his hand, and he quickly switched it off before Remus managed to get him found by whatever was just around the corner. Speaking of which . . . Harry, accustomed to sneaking around by his school years, craned his head as minutely as he could manage around the alcove corner, but he gave a slight huff._

_There was no way he could see through all this dark. He strained his eyes, but he couldn't for the life of him see through this black. Then, as if in reply to his thoughts, a light seemed to appear in mid-air. Harry rose an eyebrow. It was blue. There was a blue, rectangular slat of light hanging in the air of a London sewer. He was officially seeing things._

_"YOU, WILL BECOME, LIKE US."_

_And Harry couldn't deny the metallic arm that was reaching for him was real._

_(End Flashback)_

"Harry? Harry!"

The werewolf in question blinked, still partially immersed in the memory of that London sewer, before seeing the here and now - which involved a rather concerned-looking Rose. He grinned, trying to reassure her while hoping she wouldn't question him, but she seemed too worried about him to leave it alone. "Wha' was tha'? Ya went all - " She seemed unable to express herself, instead settling for a rather odd hand gesture, and he grinned again - for real, this time. "Just a memory. Sorry to worry you." She nodded, satisfied for the moment that he was all right, and they started off down the corridor.

"Going somewhere, Mr Potter?"

(Chapter Nine- End)

Ambrose: Well, that's one chapter we're ecstatic to finally have finished. We started writing it two weeks ago, and we just kept hitting wall after wall of block. Still, we got there in the end, didn't we? Even if the first half or so may seem a bit disconnected. We got to go and see Bolt last week! In 3-D! And it rocked! But now we have loadsa homework - feel pity, minions!

The Professor: He's on a bit of a sugar high at the moment, so ignore him. So, what did you think? Love it, hate it? Not worth reading? Make sure you tell us, m'kay? We NEED to know, people. See you all next chappy, if you're still reading. Make sure you leave a review!


End file.
